Their Promise of Flight and Freedom
by Just a writer for fun
Summary: After the voyage to Flint's trove, Jim Hawkins continues his journey from where he left off starting with his admission to the Royal Interstellar Academy. The rough Etherium waves don't stop there, especially when he realize that his visit to Treasure Planet has only prepared him for an even bigger adventure.
1. Prologue

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Please visit my sideblog **justawriterforfun _dot_ tumblr _dot_ com** (replace _dot_ with . and no spaces) for updates/notes which will serve as my stories' bulletin board from here on.

Also, you can find the Q&A portion of my author's notes in a blog post which I'll be updating from time to time.  
Y'all can view it in the sideblog I mentioned above and just click the 'Response Log' tab.

(on an unrelated note, a small convenient tip on this fic-hosting site for those who didn't know it yet: you can navigate straight to the latest chapter by clicking the right arrow-thingy beside the fanfic's title)

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Treasure Planet, its characters, the ideas behind the cancelled sequel, and the songs or references mentioned in the story, but everything else, how I incorporated my ideas into the sequel's original concept, belongs to me.

* * *

**SUMMARY**

After the voyage to Flint's trove, Jim Hawkins continues his journey from where he left off starting with his admission to the Royal Interstellar Academy. The rough Etherium waves don't stop there, especially when he realize that his visit to Treasure Planet has only prepared him for an even bigger adventure.

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

The foggy planet Galatea, a place ran by the shady lot of the galaxy, its air misting with the scent of astrobarnacles left too long under the sun and of the sweat from spacers who had a little too much to drink. At the west wharf sat old man Herb Ruskin's tavern where people from different walks of life gathered to have their ale delivered and be waited on by barmaids who could just get a bit frisky. If it meant earning a little more than intended, then there was no harm in attending to a little 'extra service' as far as the management was concerned.

Ruel Wiggins sat at the small table at the farthest corner of the room, drinking a bottle of ale and blowing rings on his smoking pipe while his eyes rummaged throughout the place. None interested him so far; just a mess of people, most of whom he already recognized as frequent customers.

At the bar sat a ship crew, drinking and laughing with their mouths full of Solara seeds. One table had a man immersed in telling stories to his shipmates that he hardly noticed they were paying more attention to the waitress he invited over to sit on his lap. Another table had a card game taking place with noticeable bets placed on the table: coins of various monetary value, a large gold ring, several Solarium crystals scattered all over, and a sack of gray dust which he hoped to be just plain gunpowder. Sick of the scenery, the fisherman turned away and coughed, downing the remainder of his bitter ale and adjusting the harpoon gun that leaned against his chair.

Setting his drink down, a figure approached and pulled a seat in front of him. Wiggins looked up and saw a blue coat with four gold stripes on its sleeves, carrying a fabric-lined metal canister that slung on his left shoulder. The old man's rat-like ears perked up and a grin crawled all the way to his face when he knew who it was.

Once the stranger had settled down, Wiggins blew a surely smoke ring at him and pulled his seat closer to the table. "Didn't expect ye'd be back so soon."

"Neither did I, Wiggins," the stranger smartly replied, taking off his hat to reveal the face of a young man who was around his twenties. "But since you said you have something good for me, I might as well get back at you fast."

"This little pastime of yers will be the death of ya, _Captain_ Terrence Hatford. Yer bosses be catchin' ya and sendin' ya yer one-way ticket to the gallows," the old spacer guffawed.

"That aside," said the young man, clearing his throat from the morbid thought that chilled him mildly. "Perhaps you'll love what I have here with me."

"Very well, let's see it."

"A blueprint of a newly designed ship," he introduced with confidence, placing the canister containing the blueprint roll on the table. "A prototype of it anyway, was ordered to dispose of it."

"So, what's so great 'bout this here ship?"

"It's said that it will be the fastest ship to ever sail the Etherium. The prototype doesn't show much in detail but the design sort of gives it away."

"I see. Anythin' else?" asked Wiggins who pushed the package away from him and shook the ashes out of his smoking pipe. "I'm a fisherman, boy, though not a decent one. Speedy boats ain't fer the likes of me."

"This was the best that I could offer. I thought it might at least catch your eye a bit."

"Not to me, it ain't. But to some, it just might be the case," he warned. He then looked over Hatford's shoulder to make sure if anyone was eavesdropping on them. "So if I were ye, I'd get this all over with."

The captain then pulled out something else from his pocket and held it in the air and bargained. "Maybe I'll make it up to you if I throw in a few drabloons?" he asked with a toss of the small sack on the table, a couple of gold coins spilling out.

As he eyed the loot, the man pondered for a bit. "Sounds like a deal, but I won't settle meself fer a chinwag of some ship and a mere dollop of coins. Perhaps ye could give a little more."

"Take it or leave it, Wiggins. I gave my share, now it's your turn."

He said nothing, however, and waved a finger in front of him. His mouth curved to a toothy grin instead and reached an open hand to the young man, goading for more.

Giving in to his extortion, the captain unhappily reached in an inner pocket of his coat and tossed in another sack of drabloons. He had set that set aside for plans on buying new sails for his ship and now he had every right to be miserable to have given it up. _"This better be good,"_ was all that he hoped for what the old fisherman had for him.

His needs met, Wiggins grabbed the bags of coins with a smirk and stowed it in his drawstring sack. "Ye have yerself a deal."

"What do you have?"

"Surely, ye've heard 'bout an explosion less than a parsec away from Cresentia."

"I'm aware of it. Heard it faintly from the spaceport but I don't think anyone else did at the time. My superiors said it was probably the detonation of a large incoming meteor."

"Well, some spoke of a similar explosion that took place at the farthest edge of the galaxy. The only difference to the tale is it's said to be a planet that blew up. That's right, a magnitude the size of an entire planet. No one knows how it even reached the spaceport when it would've taken months."

"How's that possible?" marveled Hatford. "It's just unimaginable to even think of detonating an entire planet, and I recall Montressor is the nearest neighboring one around Cresentia. There's just no other planet within that proximity."

"But that's just the beginning. I also heard from other fishers 'bout loot fallin' from the sky at me hometown, just after the explosion. Drabloons and jewels flyin' and scatterin' here and there, and mates of mine told me of treasure gettin' caught in their fishin' nets."

"Loot that came from the destruction of a planet?"

"Then I checked on me net one mornin' and saw this shiny old thing." His wrinkled and calloused hand reached in his sack and placed a small parcel on the table. He unwrapped it and revealed an orb that seemed to be made of gold alloy, chipped and burned, and missing a few small pieces as if it came from the very explosion they were talking about. Hatford noted that it was surprisingly lightweight and had markings that could be pressed, cranked and turned like a puzzle box.

"What is it?" was the first question that popped in his mind as he inspected in every angle the small gizmo in his hand.

"Dunno, but it's not like I have anythin' to do with it. Kept fiddlin' with it here and there but zilch, ain't nothin' happenin'. It ain't even good paper weight since it'll be rollin' all over the place."

With a certain glimmer in his set of blue eyes, he declared. "Perhaps I could show this to the higher-ups, then they might find someone who could get it to work."

Wiggins leaned back on his seat, a satisfied look on his face, and kicked up a pair of booted feet on the table. "Like anyone would take a shine to that thing. Ye could get flak fer thinkin' ye've been sendin' 'em garbage."

The captain replied and smirked at his companion's remark. "Won't hurt me to try."

* * *

The two walked out of the tavern to the docks after their negotiation, where their respective ships were parked. Even when he was drawing near his downtrodden vessel, Hatford was still pressing on the small circular marks on the chunk of metal he held in his hands in an attempt to make it work but none of his efforts paid off.

Eyeing his companion who was walking a couple of steps ahead of him, Wiggins couldn't help but want to reprimand the young spacer for his recklessness. Hatford was a Navy man, a captain at that. He had just graduated from Naval academy about a year ago, that was what he recalled when the tale suddenly slipped from the young spacer's tongue during one of their exchanges. So far, his bosses haven't heard anything about him getting in deep trouble, especially for doing shady trades like most of the ones they had. It wasn't that Wiggins wanted them to end. Most of the prizes and information he received from Hatford either amounted to something or were a gag and worth a couple bottles of ale.

He was aware enough that one day, the big guns would find all out about Hatford's misadventures and it might not go well on the young man's end. He could get charged a fine, get thrown to prison or worse, be hung for possible accusations of treason.

Wiggins was aware that he himself wasn't among the most honorable fishermen in the whole Etherium. He has already done a few similar negotiations back in his early days and had a few run-ins with the law. Not exactly a suitable role model to begin with but somehow, Hatford still chose him as his primary source of underground intel. And the young man was a Royal Navy captain, for goodness sake!

"Seriously, boy," he grumbled and broke the silence between them. "Ye've a big future above yer head and the makings in the world. It'd be a waste to throw all that in the gutter and spend yer days dilly-dallyin' in these sorts."

"I know, I know," the lad groaned like he was being told by his parents, tossing the sphere back and forth in his hands. "I figured I might as well have a little fun while I haven't come across on any of the more serious stuff yet."

"A little fun, my arse. Had yer old men find out that I'm caught into this crazy fad of yers, I'm not gonna have a word in it!"

Noticing the change in the tone of his voice, his younger companion queried. "Why so concerned, Wiggins?"

"I ain't concerned, ya whelp. More or less, I'd hate to think all that wasted potential of yers is gonna keep me up at night."

"Ah, I see... So you _are_ worried." For a few seconds, he waited for a reply but the graying fisherman just walked on and spoke not a word. "That's _my_ concern, Wiggins. Not yours, so don't go beating yourself up over an odd one out like me. Maybe odd two out if JD counts, but he just kinda puts up with all my crap."

Wiggins understood what the young man meant but breathed out an exasperated sigh. "But there be plans on givin' up this guile leisure of yers one day?"

"Maybe. When I get my big break, whenever that will be. Sad to say, you probably won't be hearing from me in a long time when that time comes."

He pulled his pipe out from his lips that pulled into a straight line, and blew a handful of smoke. "I'd hate to break it to ya, lad. But I can't wait fer that day to happen."

From behind them, quick footsteps began to thump on the dock right to their path. It became louder and louder until a man having the features of a capuchin suddenly grabbed the gizmo from Hatford's hands and hurriedly darted away from the two.

"The sphere!"

"Ah, I thought that scalawag was listenin' in on us." Wiggins then slid down the harpoon gun that slung behind his arm and handed it to his companion. "Here."

Hatford wasted no time and grabbed the weapon, rushing to where the thief was. On his way, the pink-faced man knocked down a few empty barrels behind him to slow his pursuer down but Hatford just easily vaulted on them. The robber then made a turn to a street and weaved through a marketplace. The young captain, however, decided not to pass through the dense crowd and made a detour instead, tramping on alleys with not a nick of people in sight and climbing on buttresses. Jumping back on barren soil, he got back to the chase but could barely catch up with the felon who was a few feet ahead of him.

"Dang it!"

Seeing no other choice, he shot the only loaded harpoon at the crook, catching it by the shirt and pinning it to a wooden wall. Hatford then dashed to his target, grabbed the sphere from a pair of filthy hands and hightailed out of the scene. Ripping the fabric off of the metal that held him, the capuchin man pulled the harpoon out from the wall and upon catching up, struck the poor captain on the head with it, the impact causing him to fall on his back.

The thief then struggled to pry the metal orb out from Hatford's hand, throwing punches that the captain blocked with his other arm. He then grabbed the arm that shielded the young man and rolled to go below him and kicked him on the groin. In pain, Hatford fell on his side and the crook instead got hold of the canister he carried with him. As the young spacer wallowed and held onto his hurting area, the mugger took the chance and quickly darted away from his pursuer.

The captain staggered to get up as he slid the sphere in one of his pockets. He then picked up the discarded harpoon and ran after the pink-faced thug once more, contemplating whether or not he should let the guy slip with the blueprint. He took a detour once more and soon he was back at the wharf, the hoodlum making a run to a pirate ship.

"Take off already, ya scurvy dogs!" the capuchin man yelled as he ran to the vessel edging away from the wharf upon his word. Reaching the end of the port, he jumped aboard and dangled among the shrouds, chuckling as he watched his pursuer from a distance.

Hatford was loading the harpoon back to his weapon when he realized that he had already reached the end of the platform. He stumbled and fell from the edge but his one hand quickly grabbed on a beam that saved him from a bad fall to the sharp rocks beneath it. From there, all he saw was the pirate vessel sailing away and disappearing in the thick mist that engulfed the planet.

Defeated, he cussed under his breath. "Drat, lost him!"

"Oi! Ya need some help there, boy?" Wiggins called out, running to him when suddenly Hatford's ship, the RLS Myrtle, veered to where he dangled.

"That's okay. I got him," spoke a man on board, stepping on the starboard side, and threw a rope to the captain.

"You came just in the nick of time, JD!" he thanked as he shifted his weight on the rope to be pulled up by the black-haired spacer. "At least that's what a spaceport dame once said."

The man, JD, glared at him, his tawny eyes so bright behind a pair of rectangular eyeglasses. "Oh, just can it, will you?! You're one-liners isn't making any of this easier for me!"

"Right, right, but she _did_ mention that," he mumbled, mostly to himself out of caution that his companion might hear him and carry on with his complaints.

Stepping on the deck, he bid farewell to the fisherman with a tip of his hat, tossing the harpoon gun back to its owner who readily caught it. "See you 'round, Wiggins."

"Pleasure doin' business with ya as always," he saluted back as he tucked the weapon behind his arm.

The Myrtle's only two passengers took their posts at the bridge and finally swerved the ship away from the docks on its way out of Galatea, going back to the waves of the Etherium once more.

"I swear one day, all this cleaning up after you will be the death of me," JD commented, two of his hands steering the helm.

With a snicker and a tease, Hatford grabbed him by his shoulders and shook him. "I know, I get that a lot but where would I be without my first mate?"

"Probably dead by now. Dead as this forsaken ship would've been."

"Cheer up, will you? All that frowning will do a number on your pretty face, and Betty won't be seeing you in the same way by the time we get back at the spaceport if you hold that up."

"And I get that a lot, too, but do I even care?"

"You should. You've no idea of the sticky stares barmaids and doxies throw at you. And you, of all people, won't even bat an eye!"

JD, sensing the incoming comments on his looks that made him the slightest bit uninterested, let out a long and annoyed sigh. "Because _it's not important_."

"Of course it's not to you but if I were in your shoes, I'd flaunt all I want." And he would do just that without fail. But upon saying those words, Hatford sensed just a hint of déjà vu in them that just made him cross his arms and shudder. "Now I know what Wiggins was talking about."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing."

"Anyway," the first mate spoke, in hopes of changing the topic. "How did the trade go? I assume the prize is as good as what Wiggins promised you?"

"Heck yeah, it is. Wiggins turned down the blueprint when I offered it to him so I made some last minute 'adjustments', then some wretched goon just snatched the deal away from me on the wharf. Took chase, got it back, and never felt more liberated in my life."

"And the blueprint's with Wiggins now?"

"Same guy who pinched on the prize kinda took the blueprint in its place."

"Wait—you lost it to some scum?!"

"Hey, I was told to get rid of it, wasn't I? So I did, more or less. Even though it wasn't the way I planned, it's not like they'll find anything useful from it anyway. Besides, I'm doing ourselves a favor and actually got something out of all that." He then pulled out the contraption in his pocket and tossed it to the man behind the helm who caught it in one hand.

"A metal sphere," JD inspected. "Lightweight material, probably bronzium, weighs below three hundred fifty grams, covered in patterns and got ashes in between nooks and crannies."

Smirking, his captain winked at him. "I love it when you do that analysis-thing."

"Wiggins told you anything more about it?"

"My friend..." He paused and made an adjustment of his hat, turning a confident smile to the stars. "You will never believe what I just heard."

* * *

"You mangy mutt!" a colossal boatswain erupted, delivering a punch to the capuchin man's face with his meaty fist as the rest of the ship's crew witnessed the scene. "Thought you'd be coming back with our ale then you get yourself into some grating mischief!"

The thief cautiously faced him, a hand touching a cheek that was starting to bruise. "Fergive me, Huggus. Please speak not a word of this to the cap'n."

"And what have you got there, you sniveling runt!" he inquired, pulling the canister from his shipmate's arm. He unfurled it and the cobalt blue paper revealed the outline of a rather peculiar-looking ship. "What is this?"

"It's a chart of a ship."

"You'd waste a keg of ale over some blasted ship?!"

"Huggus," a voice spoke from behind them that quickly stopped the pot-bellied bloke from making any further reprimands. A tall lean man stepped to them, garbed in a blue long coat with a few visible stitching done on its tears. "If this thing is something of value to Quibble, then we must absolutely hear from him first."

"Thank ye, Cap'n," the thief peeped. But in the blink of an eye, it was as if the captain had a sudden change of heart and gave the little man an even harder hit, a heavy knee colliding with his side that made him curl up in pain.

"_That_ is for looting something without my permission," resonated his low guttural voice in anger, but soon calmed down the instant he continued his queries. "So tell me, Quibble. Would you like to share with the rest of the crew about your venture?"

"Aye," he winced, holding to an even sharper pain beside his stomach as he struggled to get on his feet. "I-It's about a ship."

"I heard, you already said that so don't waste my time and be out with it. What is so valuable about this ship?"

"Ye could see fer yerself, sir."

Without a word, the boatswain held the roll of paper to the captain who took it in a firm grip. His lifeless blue eyes, obscured beneath his hat and a neckerchief that hid the rest of his metallic face, skimmed on the thin material and saw the design of the most unique ship he had ever laid eyes on. In that moment, he knew he had to get his hands on the vessel no matter what it would take. An iron hand skidded on its outline and at the very top of the page, a lone finger traced the lettering of its name: RLS Centurion.


	2. Moving Forward

**I. Moving Forward**

* * *

Day was dawning on planet Montressor, and soft sunlight was creeping in at the window pane. At exactly seven o'clock in the morning, an alarm clock rang loudly on Jim Hawkins' bedside table, an envelope propped right behind it. Shifting in his sleep, he placed a hand on its snooze button and turned away.

"Just five more minutes, Morph..." he groaned. "Just a little more..."

Knowing how special the day was, the stubborn little clock transformed into its real form of a floating pink blob and quickly turned into an air horn. With no hesitation, he blared at the back of Jim's head, the cacophony jolting the teenager to yelp and jump out of his bed, falling face first on his carpeted floor.

"Geez, Morph! You should've warned me," he grumbled, sitting up while wiping his face with his sleeve.

The little blob squeaked in protest then hovered to a calendar that hung on his bedroom wall. He chirped and turned into a cartoonish gloved hand, pointing at a Sunday encircled with red marker, the date of which was today.

"I know, I know," Jim nodded with a smile, heavy-eyed still and scratching the back of his head. "You're all too excited to send me off for first day of school."

Morph flew back to him and happily squirmed against his cheek before resting on his open hands, smiling to the young boy.

"Alright, come on. Let's get dressed up."

Finally getting up, he yawned and stretched out his arms. He lazily walked out of his room and headed straight to the bathroom, a toothbrush and a bath towel in hand. While washing himself, Morph did a bathing of his own at the bathroom sink. Once done, he dried himself with his towel and wrapped it around his waist, proceeding to the sink to brush his teeth while Morph, taking the form of a toothbrush, replicated his movements.

He returned to his room and wore a fresh pair of underwear, dark green pants, and socks. He put on one of his favorite yellow shirts which smelled of laundry detergent, and folded the sleeves up a bit. For a minute he stood in front of his wardrobe, contemplating whether he should wear his old black jacket or the brown vest his mother recently gave him. Coming to a decision, he finally chose the latter but also took the jacket with him and stuffed it in his red duffel bag which he had already prepped the night before with his school uniforms, extra sets of clothes, and toiletries.

He combed his dark brown hair and checked his appearance one last time on the mirror. Staring in deep thought, he ran a hand on the nape of his neck where a small braid of hair used to be. He looked different from what he was used to seeing every morning when he woke up, the rest of his hair trimmed and not an earring in sight. Seeing his reflection in disbelief, it was as if he didn't even recognize himself. He was not the same as the Jim that stayed in his mind and recalled like it was only yesterday. He thought he was going to be like that forever: a stubborn and cynical kid who consistently ticked his mom off with his solar surfing and reckless behavior. Knowing full well that he was given the chance to change for the better, he smiled and chuckled to himself. At the last minute before he almost forgot, he folded the envelope that sat on his bedside table and stowed it inside his pants pocket.

"Come on, Morph," he announced, slinging his bag on his shoulder and slipping in his boots. "Let's go."

He headed downstairs where he could hear the chatter of the inn's daily customers. Ever since Jim's return from his voyage to Treasure Planet, his earnings from the treasure he acquired helped for the reestablishment of the Benbow Inn, his mother's run-in bed-and-breakfast stand, and still had room for major improvements to make it a tenfold better than what it used to be. Sarah Hawkins no longer bussed the busy tables since she now had a couple of waitresses do the work for her. She no longer had to worry about preparing meals for the diners since an acquainted cook that she took in could do it in her place. All the work left to do was managing the inn, handling the budget, and cleaning up tables and rented rooms.

Jim overlooked the whole eatery, seeing tables occupied with resident families of Montressor and his mother chatting with Mrs. Hickleberry, a regular diner at the inn. There were even new faces who apparently came all the way from another planet. Fewer people were in the room than what he was used to but maybe because it wasn't until lunch and dinner rush that the place would be packed with even more hungry customers. Thinking about that, Jim thought it was a good idea that his mother finally decided to get a crew to help her out. For him, his mom's business seemed to be blooming more than ever.

Spotting her son coming down the stairs, Sarah walked to him and received him first, a tired but warm smile on her face. "Good morning, sweetheart."

"Morning, mom," Jim smiled back.

"You're up right on the dot," she complimented, placing her hands on her hips. "And I thought I had to drag myself all the way upstairs to wake you up."

Jim laughed at the thought. "It's alright, mom. I got it covered."

"Well, you might as well should. You'll have to get used to that."

"Yeah. I brought an extra alarm clock in case Morph will... you know, do something to the old one." A skeptical glance was thrown at the little blob of mischief who transformed into a tongue and blew the teenager a raspberry in return.

"Jim!" called a sing-song voice from the other end of the room. From out of nowhere, one of Sarah's helpers rushed to the lad and threw herself at him, her yellow ringlets of hair that resembled feathers bouncing behind her. She was young, about the same age as Jim, but seemed playful enough to mistake that she was younger than her actual age.

"Ooh! My Jimmy looks so handsome today, more handsome than usual!"

"Hey, Colette…" greeted Jim uneasily in her embrace. "Good to see you, too."

"Well, he is going off to school. I think it's great that he's trying to make a good impression. Let's just hope he stays that way 'til he graduates."

"Very funny, but I don't think I look any different from how I usually look," he commented despite the squeeze he was getting on his chest.

"Colette, get back in here and help me serve up breakfast!" spoke another helper from the kitchen, peeking behind swinging doors. A Neovisonid, she was about the same age as her companion but stood as the more mature of the two waitresses. She then spotted the yellow-haired lass holding onto the young boy and walked to her, eyeing her disdainfully.

"Let me guess, making moves on Jim while I'm busy helping out our cook in the kitchen. The nerve!"

"Hey, Deb," Jim greeted to her as well.

The canary girl heaved Jim aside and fronted her co-worker's face, still having her grip on the boy's forearm. "Well, I _am_ the one who saw him first when I applied as Mrs. Hawkins' helper!"

"Well, _I_ applied as a waitress here first!"

_"Ting!"_ the bell from the counter suddenly rang as if to break the heat, with a couple of new customers in line ready to have their orders taken.

"Okay, girls," Sarah interjected and separated the duo between her arms' width. "I think it's about time you two went back to work."

In approval, Deborah agreed gravely. "Of course, Mrs. Hawkins. I'll see to it that Colette will go attend to our customers and I'll follow suit."

"Why do I have to be the one to leave first?"

"Because I'm your senior," her companion answered with a flip of her velvety brown hair. "So _I_ get to be the one who makes the rules between the two of us."

"Alright, but I'll see that you _will_ follow me back to the counter," the blonde pouted and finally let go of the brown-haired boy. She trotted to the back of the counter before waving to him. "Bye, Jim! Miss you already!" she bid with a big smile before taking out her notepad and pen. Her co-worker followed soon enough.

"Have a safe trip, Jim," she bid as well. She then leaned in to Jim's surprise and whispered. "Oh, and uh, do give a call every now and then, pretty please," she said with a wink before leaving to her work.

Relieved, the teenager let out a huff. "Well, that's something I don't think I'll ever get used to."

"So, what do you want to eat?"

"... I'm not really—"

"I know, I know. You're not in the right mood, but you know well that I'm going to worry since you skipped breakfast, Jim," she advised out of concern for her son who was too preoccupied with back-to-school thoughts since the night before that he hardly paid any attention to his food .

"But I'm fine, mom. Look, if it'll make you feel better I guess I'll just have something light."

Sarah sighed in compliance to his request. "Oh, alright. I'll have Mr. Phillip whip up a couple of sandwiches. Does that go well with you?"

"That's fine, thanks," he replied in a more lighthearted tone. With that, his mother wasted no time and scurried to the kitchen as she promised.

Looking to the left end of the room, he saw the Doppler family happily eating their breakfast at their usual table. Dr. Delbert Doppler was a faithful customer to the Benbow from the very beginning, being a close friend of his mom. He still was. The only difference now was that he didn't have to go there alone anymore. He always brought his wife, Captain Amelia Smollett-Doppler with him along with their four kids. Their three daughters, Matey, Tiller, and Jib, were all miniature replicas of their Felinid mother with only a variation in the color of their hair. The only son, Sunny, was likewise every lick of what his father looked like.

Delbert set aside his bowl with a couple bites left of his usual Alponian chowder (with the extra Solara seed) and reached to feed the red-headed Tiller, the most mischievous of the Doppler children. If he knew any better, the toddler might grow up to be a bit rebellious like Jim. But he set that thought aside and held a teaspoonful of baby food to her mouth.

"Here is RLS Tillie, ready to dock at the spaceport. Reporting for duty, Captain!" played Delbert much to the amusement of his daughter who was down to her last bite. Her siblings, however, simply sat on their high chairs since they had finished a bit earlier. Even Sunny went ahead and took a nap the first chance he got.

"She sure took her time," chuckled Amelia while wiping blond little Matey's tiny mouth with a napkin.

"She's a bit more stubborn than Jib but I'm quite sure I know where they got that style from," he commented, a smile on his face while he set aside her food bowl and went on to eat the remainder of his chowder. "From here on, I can already tell they will grow up to be just like you, dear."

"'Steadfast' is the more appropriate term to describe my disposition but I suppose both work interchangeably. A captain has to be, after all." She placed the dirty napkin on the table and later saw someone coming from behind her husband who was on his last few gulps of drinking water. "Ah, Mr. Hawkins! A few minutes off but still right on schedule," she greeted, checking on her pocket watch just to be sure.

"Hey, Cap," Jim greeted back. "Doc."

"And good morning to you, Jim. I take it that you slept well?" the good-humored doctor asked, his hound-like ears flopping as he waved a hand to the boy.

"Hardly. Back-to-school jitters, I guess."

Delbert gasped. "Me, too! I mean, I _am_ going back to school, as a teacher that is. Not as a student like you, Jim. Not that I have anything against students going back to school but you probably get my point!" He looked briefly to his wife and cleared his throat. "And I'm rambling again, am I? But seriously, I take it that I got my point across."

Jim reassured with a smile. "I get your drift, Doc. No worries."

Sitting opposite Delbert was the eloquent captain who had just downed what appeared to be once a whole plate of Montressor breakfast: two lunar eclipses, two pieces of fried bacon, and two slices of toast with a side of hot café lattoid.

For Jim, seeing Amelia indulge in the drink was like a breath of fresh air. True, he was already used to preparing her morning coffee every day from when he was just a cabin boy aboard her ship, even knowing how much cream she wanted and how the bowl of sugar cubes remained untouched. It was just that for all the times Amelia had been served coffee, this was the first time that he got to see her actually drink it.

Jim's head was swirling in deep thought that he didn't realize he was probably gaping at the family like an idiot the whole time. He quickly shook his gaze away and was snapped back to reality by a small laugh from Tiller who was reaching out to Morph that buzzed around her head.

Finished with her drink, Amelia placed the cup back on its coaster and pushed it away. "Well, gents. Shall we be on our way?"

* * *

"Are you sure?" Sarah asked the captain who mentioned about dropping the kids off to her parents on their way to the academy. "I mean, they're not really a handful."

The four of them (five, if Morph counts) went to the dock where Amelia's ship was, the once pristine RLS Legacy which seemed to have gone through so much repair, sails let down and a couple of cannons missing. The couple toted their kids on a baby carriage made for four. Meanwhile, Jim carried his luggage and adding to his haul was a paper bag containing two ham and lunar eclipse sandwiches and a bottle of purp juice after convincing his mother that he would be having his meal on the road.

"I appreciate your charity to watch over the tots," Amelia thanked. "But it's quite alright. It would bother me to know that they're a distraction to your duties. Besides, I already spoke to my folks about this in advance and they are more than happy to oblige and have their grandchildren over while we're gone."

"Indeed, they're a delightful bunch. A bit prickly at first but they're not so bad once you get to know them," noted her husband of the in-laws. "Although Mr. Smollett still has his all-seeing eyes on me."

"You two know what's best for them," Sarah finally complied and turned to look at the four younglings. "Please don't grow up so fast, you little sweeties."

"My sentiments exactly, Mrs. Hawkins."

"Don't worry, Sarah," comforted Delbert. "I'm almost certain Jim will take care of that for you by the time he gets back."

"Thank you, Delbert. I'm sure Jim can still be the adorable little boy he is even if he's already grown up to become a fine spacer."

Jim rolled his eyes and blew on a tuft of his hair, seeing that this was the start of another conversation that would give him the push to a never-ending swirl of embarrassment.

The doctorate-earned man shook his head. "I wasn't pertaining to Jim, you see. I mean, that is if you're open to the thought of having grandchildren one day."

"What?!" cried the startled teenager who nearly dropped his juice bottle from the suggestion.

"Oh, no, no. I think it's still too early for him to be involved in that sort of thing!"

"Yes, exactly! Thank _you_, mom."

On a more serious note, Sarah held her chin and contemplated about it more thoughtfully. "But I do want to be a grandmother someday."

The lad felt a wave of heat rush to his face from his mother agreeing to the thought and just when he was about to rebuff, the captain cut in.

"Yes, and not too soon I hope but we really should get going," she said as if to avoid any more remarks that would add to Jim's discomfort, her boots clanking on the ship's loading ramp with Delbert and the children following right behind.

"Right. Have a safe trip!"

Jim stopped on his heels and turned back to face Sarah. "Thanks, mom. And for the sandwiches, too."

"It's no problem at all, sweetheart. Though I am expecting that you _are_ eating those on the way like you promised."

"I will," he laughed. "Or Morph would just slip it right under my nose."

As if they had just mentioned him, the pink blob hovered to Jim and snatched the paper bag away from his grip, tittering as he did so.

"Yeah, there goes my breakfast _and_ my lunch."

Sarah shook her head of the little troublemaker then brought a hand to gently touch her son's face. "Have a great time in school, Jim."

"I will, mom," he answered and noticed her pointing a finger to her cheek. He groaned in complaint when he got the idea but without any more protest, he leaned to his mother's face and planted a small reluctant kiss on the indicated spot.

"Love you, sweetheart."

With that, he turned away from her and rushed to the ship's entrance. "You guys take care while I'm away."

"Oh, we will, dear. It's as if you were never even gone!"

The ramp was raised and pulled in. The ship whirred as every cell on the solar sails drank up all the energy from the sun it needed for takeoff. Jim watched as electricity flowed through each cell down to the keel where the engine was, similar to when he boarded on the Legacy for the first time. He then went to the deck side, looked among the rails and saw his mother smiling back at the dock, on the verge of tears and waving a handkerchief to them. He waved back and saw from the same deck that Delbert and Amelia were waving back to her as well.

The captain announced at the top of her lungs. "All aboard!"

"Right-o, Captain," her husband reported and lugged the children all the way to the stateroom, knowing that they would be hovering on their feet soon enough.

Slowly, the Legacy inched away and the planet's gravitational pull on them got weaker, uprooting Jim from where he was standing. Morph approached him, the sandwich bag still in his tiny hands. Just when Amelia activated the artificial gravity, Jim was able to snatch it from him but earning a hard thud on the floor upon falling in the process.

The captain then went to her post and readied her instructions. "Take her away," she spoke through a speaking tube to the man below as she propped herself behind the helm.

With a powerful gust from the thrusters, the Legacy finally took flight, the captain steering it in the right direction. Soon enough, a small metal man emerged from beneath the deck, all clean and polished compared from when Jim first encountered him: rusted, mossy and a few lose nuts. He jumped in joy upon setting his binocular-like eyes on the young passenger who was straightening himself up, frolicking all the way to him.

"Jimmy!" he repeatedly cried, throwing himself to Jim for a tight hug as if the teenager never got enough of it from one of the inn's waitresses.

"Hey, B.E.N. Things been going well with Cap for you?"

The robot enthusiastically replied as he let Jim scuffle out of his grasp since the teenager wasn't very comfortable with prolonged body contact. "Oh, yeah. I haven't been navigating ships in a hundred years and Captain really knows what she's doing."

"B.E.N., adjust our parameters and set our route to coordinates 2-0-3-5," Amelia instructed.

"Aye, Captain!" he saluted, pressing a few buttons on the navigation dashboard and pulling on the shift levers, while his commanding officer directed the helm to the mentioned coordinates.

"And how's the Legacy doing?" Jim inquired him more.

"Leggy's doing fine. A few stitches on the solar sails here and there, and you know how our last trip did a number on the mizzen sails. Ha-ha-ha! It took a month to get her back in tip-top shape."

"Same as the captain, I see."

"I'm well-aware of the injury I sustained then, Mr. Hawkins," she recalled, who had been listening to their exchange the whole time. "But yes, both the Legacy and I had to endure each of our own month-long rehabilitation."

B.E.N. added. "Yeah, but the captain did say she has a new ship being put together right now and when it's done, I'm going to drive it in Leggy's place since then."

"Really? So, the Legacy's gonna turn in from here?"

Amelia corrected his statement. "Not necessarily retire but rather be placed under new management."

"Who do you have in mind?"

"I have a niece studying in the academy and running for honors. I plan to hand over this creaking tub as her graduation present."

"She finishing anytime soon?"

"In a couple of years. If I remember correctly, she's on her third year right now."

Holding that thought, he took the envelope in his pants pocket and pulled out what seemed to be a letter. He unfolded it and scanned for the right words, the header read the phrases 'Royal Interstellar Academy' and 'Letter of Admission', both of which were printed in ornate and noticeable font. "That makes me a year below her. Nice of you to put me in sophomore year, by the way."

"I'm just dropping you from where you left off. That way you won't feel too left out or won't have any trouble catching up. I don't want to discourage you but the academy's administration is quite different from the Montressor public school you've been accustomed to."

"I think I can handle the adjustment," he spoke unsurely, placing the letter back in his pocket.

"By the way, you have to deliver that to the main office yourself in order to officially enroll in your classes."

In the back of his mind crawled his recollection of how vast the campus grounds was when he first set foot in it when he picked up his school uniforms. He took a ferry ride then, the captain was on a maternity leave at the time and he was grasping for straws on the way to the said building. With a setting like that, it would be nearly impossible to not get lost in the beginning, especially for a neophyte like him as how the captain put it. "Okay...? I kinda forgot how to get there but I'll figure it out. Eventually."

"You did bring the student's handbook that came with the letter, didn't you?"

"Yeah, it's here in my pack."

"There's a campus map in it you could peruse, as well as rules and guidelines that I advise you strictly abide by. Everything you need to know is in there, Mr. Hawkins, should you have any further questions."

"Okay, then I'll go check out the map," he easily assured and retreated to the ship's stateroom.

Entering, Jim walked to an idle chair that sat on a corner of the room and unloaded his duffel bag there, careful not to startle the toddlers from the other side of the room. He opened it and pulled out the handbook he was advised to read. He then turned to the page where a detailed map of the school grounds was and also took out a sandwich, split it and gave the other half to his floating pink companion. As Morph nibbled happily on his piece, Jim began studying the map, occasionally biting on his snack and getting some ham grease on the pages.

Walking behind the captain's seat, he leaned beside one of the windows and saw the sight of the Benbow Inn slowly vanishing from his eyes. He then looked up and saw the usual Montressor gray sky under a heavy dusting of clouds, small sunny spells dispersed around. He remembered breaking out from them on his solar surfer after which he would freefall from an altitude where he could barely feel his toes. The result of that would be an exuberance of adrenaline rush much to his pleasure. Glancing at the last bite of sandwich in his hand, he remembered the words from an old bucket of bolts who once paraded as a cook and told him to take charge of his own course. So Jim took his word and hoped that this course he would take, this opportunity presented to him, would help him break out from his own gray sky.


	3. The Royal Interstellar Academy

**II. The Royal Interstellar Academy**

* * *

Ships sailed in and out at the docks of Cresentia, a neighboring planet shaped like the one-eighth rind of any round fruit, as seen from the Montressor sky. Various establishments stood on its surface everywhere but the most prominent of which was the capitol with its partly dome-shaped roof.

Jim, Delbert and B.E.N. waited at the port while Amelia did a last walk-around on the RLS Legacy, parked and would remain that way until its (most likely new) handler boarded on it. Stepping on the dock platform, the red-haired officer took one of the bags that Delbert held for her and carried it to a loading booth. They waited but most of the carriages that passed by, similar to the one Delbert had back in Montressor, were already leased by passengers. A busy Sunday, it was.

Peeking from his pocket, Morph looked up and saw a worried look on Jim's face since they had been waiting there for more than the time that they accounted for. As Jim was looking around for vacant carriages, Morph hovered to him and transformed into a miniature one, opening a door and rolling out a small red carpet to him.

Amused, Jim chuckled. "Thanks, Morph. We're gonna find one in no time."

"Mr. Hawkins, you're seriously bringing that blob with you to the academy?" Amelia spoke all of a sudden, noticing the little shape shifter floating in front of his face. "There is a regulation on bringing pets within the campus grounds and if you can't keep that thing at bay, I suggest that you send it flying back to the Benbow."

Aside from a portion of treasure he got from Flint's trove, old Long John Silver also sent off the jiggle-headed blob of mischief to the young lad to keep an eye on him. To Jim, Morph was more than just a pet or a little souvenir from Silver. He was Silver's all-seeing eye and he had a favor to do for that old scalawag. That was mainly why the little critter was inseparable from Jim, and he on the other hand served as a reminder of the old bucket of bolts for the boy.

"It's fine," Jim bargained, the thought of handing over Morph not really going well him. "I'll just make sure he stays out of trouble."

"You'd better. Otherwise, I'm not going to be the one to tell your mother on this."

Comprehending what Amelia meant, Morph scurried back into Jim's pocket and simply peeped out from it. Jim was otherwise appreciative for the captain's concern for the two of them.

Soon enough, a vacant carriage parked in front of them and its driver slid off from his seat, escorting the four to his ride and giving them a hand with their things. Amelia sat opposite of Jim while her husband settled beside her. B.E.N. didn't waste the opportunity and took the seat beside his self-appointed 'best friend'.

With a light whip of the tamed beast that pulled them, the wagon took off on its way to the Royal Interstellar Academy as Amelia directed. While she was reading through her paperwork, Jim leaned beside a window and watched as the scenery passed them by, with B.E.N. often breaking the silence with his tales which the teenager didn't particularly mind. Jim hasn't been on the spaceport often so a lot of the sight he was taking in, despite having visited the academy once, were all still fairly new to him.

"Ah, Jim!" Delbert spoke which broke him out of a sleepy trance. "I almost forgot to give you this."

The doctor was then fumbling and digging in his satchel that Jim had to crane his neck to see what it was. Shortly, he pulled out a rectangular metal object from his hand-carry and held it between the two of them.

"You would like this. It might go helpful with your note-taking in class," he offered with glee and a small adjustment of his round spectacles that rested on the bridge of his nose.

Taking the device from his hands, Jim inspected it from front to back. "It's a tape recorder."

"Just drop by my office when you need some new recording wax tapes but do make use of each reel wisely. I don't really have that much supply, you know."

Jim smiled back and held onto it until the moment he could stash it in his bag. "I will, Doc. Thanks."

While the rest of the ride went smooth and quiet (most of the time), there were the occasional chats between Amelia and Delbert such as talking about the latter's schedule. It was fairly full, and most of the students he would be handling were graduating that term, as what Jim heard the doctor mentioned. Thinking about his own graduation day, it would still take Jim three years at least before he could leave the place, but those three years no doubt would feel like an eternity to him until then. Time flew slower in school than it did when he was riding his solar surfer.

He wanted to sit back and take a nap then and there but instead, he got a couple of reminders from Amelia. She specifically advised him his need for an advanced reading in certain subjects and tested his knowledge of the school regulations, querying him like it was a reviewer for an exam. It ground his gears slightly, knowing that he wasn't very good at keeping up with the rules but if it was for his own sake, like what the captain wanted him to uphold, he might as well just keep his mouth shut and accept it. With B.E.N. agreeing to the captain's reminders just added to Jim's disinterest.

Arriving at the main gate, the four were escorted out of the wagon with their belongings. Once paid off, the carriage driver then wheeled his ride away from the premises.

"I guess this is where we split, Jim," said Delbert, holding onto his suitcases.

"I'll see you around, Jimmy!" B.E.N. said, pulling the teenager in a hug once more.

"Administration block is that way, Mr. Hawkins," Amelia pointed for him. "But please unload your belongings at your quarters first before proceeding."

Her husband added. "Yes, and you might even meet a couple of roommates there while you're at it."

"Right. Thanks again and see you guys around," waved Jim before going to the opposite direction to where the couple and B.E.N. were headed.

Reaching the dormitory's common room, Jim approached the receiving booth and pulled out his letter from his pocket, sliding it on the table. With a slight adjustment of her spectacles, the aging room keeper read it then briskly turned to a cabinet. She took out one of the keys that dangled there and issued an entry on her record book, a hand holding a pen to it asking Jim to affix his signature.

She then slid Jim's room key on the table and handed him back his letter once the teenager had signed in. "James Pleiades Hawkins, room 1-1-5."

Upon thanking the keeper, the teenager strolled to the long dormitory hallway, reading and counting down the assigned numbers on doors until he had reached the room he was looking for. He knocked first as a precaution to anyone inside before turning the doorknob. Swinging the door open, Jim wasn't surprised to see that no one was there yet. The sterile air gave away that just-cleaned-and-dusted vibe, and both bunk beds were still made and empty so he helped himself to a bottom bunk and dropped his duffel bag on the floor.

He took a glance at his alarm clock that he had pulled out from his luggage and placed it on a bedside drawer. He still had the rest of the day to deliver the letter to the admin block and he had all the time in the world. He slumped back on his bed, deciding to take the quick nap he had been itching for during the whole carriage ride. After all, it was to make up for all the sleep he had been lacking since several nights ago.

* * *

Gaining consciousness once more, the first thing that came to his senses were the sounds of beeps, buzzes and clicks that seemed to be emanating from an electronic device. He slowly opened his eyes to a pair of hands holding onto a gaming console which finally cleared up his suspicions.

"Hey, guys! I think he's awake."

Morph flew to a woken-up Jim who caught sight of the person beside him. A Loppytonian, one of the frog people back in Jim's hometown, sat on the opposite bottom bunk with the said gaming device. Lying down still, Jim wiped his eyes and mumbled quietly to himself. "Why am I back in Montressor?"

"Wakey-wakey, sleeping beauty!" yelled someone else, peeking his head from the Loppytonian's top bunk to get a good view of Jim below.

Surprised by the sudden salutation, Jim briskly sat up and hit his head on the wooden bedframe on top of him. He winced from the impact and quickly brought a hand to soothe his aching forehead.

"Oh, hi!" another one greeted nasally like having the difficulty of a stuffy nose, this time peering from his top bunk, his blond hair sticking out from the bedframe. "I figured that you already took the bottom bunk, hope you don't mind if I take the top. Also, I figured that the little pink shape shifter belongs to you."

"Uh, no. I don't mind," cleared Jim, letting his feet down on the floor and scooting at the edge of his bed. "And yeah, this is Morph."

"Neat! So, you're a new kid, huh?" the black-haired kid from the opposite top bunk remarked as he climbed down. Jim noticed just now the white circular marks on the guy's arms and the deer antlers on his head. "I heard a lot of transfer students were enrolling here this term but I wouldn't guess that one of my roommates would be one of them. So, let's break the ice. What's your name?"

"Jim Hawkins."

The Loppytonian clarified. "Jim Hawkins? Like, Montressor Jim Hawkins?"

"Yeah, _that_ Jim Hawkins."

"Hey, I know you!" he recalled with a snap of his fingers. "You're that guy who beat the stars out of Ray Quandree."

"Who's Ray Quandree?" the blond asked.

"Just the fastest solar surfer in Montressor! Well, he used to be but guess who holds that title now," he announced with an undulation in his voice at the end bit.

"So, you know Ray, too," Jim commented. "How come I didn't get to see you around Montressor before?"

"You just probably didn't notice me much but my parents are regulars at the Benbow Inn, Mr. and Mrs. Levey."

Recalling those names, Morph chirped and transformed into a miniature of the said Loppytonian couple to Jim. It was then, upon recognizing them, that Jim finally got hold of who they were.

"Oh, yeah! Now I remember. You have a sister, right?"

He confirmed with a nod. "Griselda, that's right! She's a regular there, too."

"Well, it's nice to see you around here..."

"Christopher, but the guys here just call me Chris."

The kid with the antlers reported. "Well, now we know that Chris and our new friend Jim here are both from the same place."

Pointing at the guy with his thumb, the gamer introduced. "He's Rainier."

"Hey, don't steal my chance to introduce myself, Chris! Don't be rude!" he cut in, pushing the frog kid by his arm.

"Okay, sheesh. No need to be so testy!"

With a clearing of his throat first, he held out a hand to Jim. "I'm Rainier Mason-Trelawney. Rainier, for short."

Jim took his hand and gave it steady shake. "Nice to meet you."

He then grabbed the blond from the top bunk by his shirt and pulled him to Jim's line of vision. "This guy's Dale."

"Cordale Linus Wess IV," the yellow-haired pangolin boy saluted with a snort. "Named after my dad, his father, and his father's father."

With the name suffix already implying Dale's fact, Jim simply raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay..."

Rainier interjected once more. "But you sure got here early, Jim. Students often start arriving here in the afternoon but you've probably been here since..."

"Before lunchtime," Dale estimated, peeking from his bed. "I got here first. I mean, after Jim did. That's when I stumbled upon your little Morph who was sleeping at the top bunk."

Quickly remembering the reason why he had to be there early, Jim asked. "Wait, what time is it?"

Chris glanced at the time on his gaming console. "A little past 3 PM. Still pretty early."

"You guys know when the admin block closes?"

"Usually seven at night but the office closes earlier on weekends, about five-ish?"

"Thanks, Rainier. I still have to go there to drop my admission letter," Jim explained, pulling the letter from his pocket and holding it in the air.

Climbing down from his bunk, the blond announced. "And I have to go to the infirmary."

"Already?" Rainier asked in disbelief.

"No, I'm just going to get myself acquainted with the staff. You know, just in case."

The Loppytonian then offered. "Want us to go with you guys?"

"No need," he declined with a wipe of his nose. "I'll be fine with my inhaler."

Before taking off, Jim took out his student's handbook from his bag, slipped the letter between its pages and suggested. "Come on. I'll walk with you all the way there."

The blond thumped his chin with a finger in thought. "But, if I remember correctly, the administration building is the other way from where I'm going."

"It's alright. That way, I can get to know the place a little better in case I needed to go to the infirmary, too," he considered as he approached the door, Morph flying into one of his pockets.

Finally accepting his offer, Dale smiled. "Gee, thanks."

The two who remained waved to them on their way out of the room. "See you guys later at dinner."

"Right, see ya," Jim waved back before closing the door behind him and turned to his companion. "Alright, Dale. Lead the way."

With that, the two went out of the dormitory and into the open campus field. In the midst of the silence between them, Dale spoke. "Sorry if ever this is an inconvenience to you."

"Not at all, it's my idea anyway," laughed Jim, stuffing one free hand in his pants pocket. "If it's okay, I actually have a question but I'm not sure if it'll offend you or something."

"It's okay," Dale breathed. "It takes a lot to offend me so I guess it'll be fine."

"So, you go to the infirmary often?"

"Yeah. Allergies, you know. The kind that runs in the family."

Not being unfair to Dale, but Jim immediately thought to himself how lucky he must be to not have a condition similar to that. Aside from the usual Etherium sickness and the common cold, he couldn't recall a time when he was sick because of an allergy. Now he wondered if his family had a medical history like Dale's did or if his estranged father had any allergies that might have been passed onto him.

"Your parents have them, too?" Jim asked more.

"They do, which is ironic because both my parents are physicians in the Navy. It's pretty tough, but at least I'm already exposed to plenty of medical terms that my folks often come across through my first-hand experience, although I'm not particularly proud of that."

Jim patted the disheartened teenager's back and comforted him. "Yeah, hope you'll get better from all that."

* * *

Once arriving at the façade of Dale's destination, the blond acknowledged his companion once more. "Thanks again, Jim. You sure you know the way back to the admin building?"

"Yeah. I've already been here once and I have a campus map right here with me."

"Well, okay. See you later," he said before walking to the nurse's office.

Although the image of the map is already burned in his mind, Jim still wasn't used to the landmarks that surrounded him, and it didn't help that the buildings were quite far apart from each other. He continued to retrace his steps whilst studying the map and Morph alleviated his suffering by occasionally turning into a compass to guide him on his way.

Shortly, he and Morph made their way to a particular establishment that seemed to look like the building they were looking for. Morph hid inside Jim's pocket upon entering but there was not an administrative personnel in sight. There was even hardly any people in the area. He would have loved to go on a tour of the _entire_ place but time was of the essence, and he was running out of it.

"I'm so dead," he thought in a whisper.

The teenager was about to leave when a door swung open and a girl, most likely a student like him, came out from a room. She noticed him standing there, giving him a steady gaze from a pair of piercing light brown eyes.

"Can I help you?" she asked him, her voice calm, modulated but somewhat strict.

"No, not at all," he replied with a small unsure step back. "I don't have any business here, really. Wherever 'here' is."

"This is the student affairs building," she informed, closing the door shut behind her, and approached where Jim stood. "I take it that you're a new student?"

"Getting lost kinda gave it away, huh?"

"No, the student's handbook did," she notified, indicating the manual he held in his hand. "Students here usually don't hold onto it anymore unless they're freshmen or new to the place."

_'Clever,'_ Jim thought as if that wasn't obvious enough. "So, I'm in the student affairs block. Are you, what, part of the student government or something?"

With a raised eyebrow, she replied matter-of-factly. "An honorary member."

"I see. I kinda came here all the way from the infirmary and I was wondering if you could point me to where the admin block is."

"If you came from the infirmary, it's already apparent that you're going the wrong way," she scoffed.

Feeling defeated, Jim sighed. "Yeah, I figured."

Although unwilling at first, she shrugged anyway. "But fine, I could take you there myself."

"Really?"

"Well, I don't have anything else to do for the remainder of the day. And it _is_ part of the council's duty to assist the student population no matter how petty the problem might be."

_'Petty?'_ Jim repeated in his head, irked from what she implied his situation was but still thanked her nonetheless. As she walked a couple of steps ahead of him, her red wavy hair would come into his view, held back in a bun that hung low behind her head with some loose strands painstakingly held back by hairpins. "So, how is it like to be part of the student body government? Isn't it a pain since you're getting more work done, aside from the usual homework and stuff?"

She directly gave him an answer. "It demands as much attention as academics, although it really won't weigh anything in my final grades nor is it an incentive of some sort."

"Then why do it in the first place?"

"For one, it definitely makes for a very promising curriculum vitae when applying for a career," she replied with a smirk.

Jim chuckled. "That's true."

"And it's more or less a training ground for anyone who wants to hone their leadership skills."

"So, the whole thing kinda leans in your favor then?"

"It goes both ways. The council benefits from the experience, the student body benefits from the council's services. It's a give-and-take relationship, you see."

In awe of her savoir-faire, Jim remarked. "You sure know how to get things going."

"Naturally," she scoffed once more.

He wondered what she meant by that but decided not to ask her and just kept quiet about it along the way. They weren't even properly introduced and she was merely showing him the way back to the administration building. He would be prying into things he shouldn't if he did, especially since she was still a total stranger to him and similarly, he was still a nobody to her. The brown-haired lad thought that perhaps he could break the ice if he just simply introduced himself to her. He was new around the place and there was nothing wrong with meeting a few people.

"Here we are, the administration building," she affirmed, stopping short of the building's main staircase.

"Thanks again," with a grin, he said.

"It's no problem," she replied easily. "Am I right to assume that you know your way out of here?"

"Maybe, but it's okay. I have my trusty handbook with me," he jested, holding the manual to his face.

The girl sneered, her mouth pulling into a half-smile. "Yeah, that should help you."

He chuckled at her remark and held out a hand to offer her a handshake. "I'm Jim Hawkins, by the way."

The red-haired girl, however, just glanced quickly at his hand before her sharp gaze made its way back to his face once more, causing him to uneasily retract his rejected hand. "Right, I guess I'd better get going then."

Just as he was making his way up the steps, she called out. "Katherine Blake."

Jim, upon hearing her clear reply, stopped on his tracks and turned around to see that she was still standing there, right where he had left her.

"Welcome to the Royal Interstellar Academy," she finally told him before stepping away, and then fled from the scene.

With a smile, the boy continued his way to the administration's receiving area, getting a sense that this wouldn't be the last time he would be hearing from her.


	4. Campus Bingo

**III. Campus Bingo**

* * *

A pair of blue eyes flickered in the dark when an alarm clock suddenly rang. His hands searching to where the noise resonated, Jim crept up to his own clock and just as he had turned it off, the light in the room went on and blinded him without his knowing.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, covering his face from the already illuminated room, Morph hovering to him with the same startled spirals in his eyes. A similar noise soon came from the other two bunks and peering from his half-open eyes, he saw Rainier already standing by the doorstep, a bath towel draped on his shoulders, and apparently the culprit for the sudden flash of light.

"Last one to the showers is a rotten lunar eclipse!" he taunted before quickly darting out of the room and leaving the door open and swinging on its own.

"Does he have to be so high-strung first thing in the morning?" Jim grumbled out of his bunk, grabbing his own towel that rested on his bedframe while the little shape shifter resumed his post in the lad's pocket.

With a bathrobe slung on his arm, Dale climbed down with a yawn. "Yeah. He's already like that since freshman year. Less fortunately, I didn't expect that I would be having him as a roommate for this term," he informed, Jim empathizing with his account.

Just as the two of them were about to leave the room, the Loppytonian called out to them, still half-asleep and hesitant to rouse from a pleasant slumber.

"Hey, guys... Wait up," he groveled. He rolled himself out of bed and sent himself crashing straight to the cold floor, the impact waking him up soon enough. He got up on his feet and whipped out his hand towel from his dresser, following his roommates out.

A line soon formed heading to the boy's shower room at the left end of the corridor. The three fell in line and saw Rainier, already at the very front of the queue, waving to them with his towel. He then stepped in shortly and the line moved along. As the three waited, Jim looked out to one of the hall's windows and saw from there a portion of sunlight appearing in the horizon, slowly replacing the navy blue night sky with a cornflower dawn. Silhouettes of the academy's buildings were cast and the lines of the pathways became visible to his eyes. He stayed observing them in absolute silence until it was his and his companions' turn to enter.

When they were done, the boys promptly returned to their room in the same set of clothes they were in, save for Dale who came out from the bath with his robe on. Backs turned to each other, they collected their academy uniforms and dressed up, starting with their cream-colored pants then the white yellow-lined shirts they had tucked into them. The matching jacket was worn last, with a patch of the school insignia stitched on the right arm and several gold buttons and lining finishing the ensemble.

Dale looked to Jim who was down to adjusting his cuffs. Fastening the last button of his jacket, he asked. "Aren't you going to button-up, Jim?"

"Nah. I'd rather not," the brown-haired teenager refused, slipping into his leather boots. "It's not like I'll get in trouble if I didn't anyway."

"I think Jim might be making a statement," Rainier cooed as he grabbed his notebook, his first button left unhinged.

"Sounds like my kinda thing," agreed Chris, imitating Jim and went on to unbutton the rest of his top.

Jim then contemplated whether he should bring Delbert's tape recorder or not. But since it was only the first day of class, his professors would most likely just introduce them to the course or read out their syllabuses to them, he thought. Noticing Jim's stare at the handheld, Morph cloned himself into one and rested on the notebook that lay on Jim's bed.

Chuckling, he picked the two up. "You'll do, Morph. You'd make a great tape recorder." After all, if there was anything Morph was good at, it would be mimicking a lot of things.

After a last few checks on the mirror, the boys walked out of their quarters and went straight to the open courtyard where the rest of the students have gathered for the opening ceremony.

"All freshmen, please form a line to your right facing the east administration gallery," Amelia's head director, Sgt. Boyd as what he was called by everyone, directed the students through a megaphone. He counted up to five to have the first-year students follow suit quickly, with several other faculty members ushering them to their group. He then ordered the same thing to the sophomores who were grouped next to the freshmen, then the juniors and finally the seniors, situating at the rightmost from where the administration building was facing. As the murmurs from the crowd toned down, Jim waited as the director silenced them until he could hear no more that hinted the start of the preamble.

The Royal Interstellar Academy and the Terran Empire flags were raised up and the academy's anthem was played. Amelia then appeared before the students, overlooking from the building's veranda, and decked in her Royal Naval service uniform. She stood upright, arms resting behind her back like she always did when she stood in her ship. Behind her appeared the rest of the high faculty, all prim and properly dressed in their respective attire. The same went to the rest of the facilitators who were situated among the students.

"Pleasant day, students of the Royal Interstellar Academy," she began. "It is an honor to have you all here this morning in this prestigious institution. I am your dean, Captain Amelia Smollett-Doppler, in utmost anticipation to serve you for this academic year in the name of our monarch, Queen Illysa II, and the rest of the Terran Empire. I am aware that you have worked so persistently to have a part in the reputes of this place and I assure you, there is no better endeavor than what this place can offer so I congratulate you all."

The swarm of students clapped their hands at her acknowledgement. Jim looked around, applauding as well, and saw his fellows have their eyes cast to the dean showing their highest respect to her. Seeing no choice, he simply just did the same and set his sights to the dean, the figures of the other faculty members distracting him from time to time.

"I will not guarantee that the journey you'll trek will be easy," she continued, her eyes hopping from person to person. "There will be adversaries that could hinder you from attaining your goals. But if it is success that you're after, the sky is just the limit to what you can do. After all, this is your best bet and pinnacle opportunity to showcase your potentials, and perhaps even the greatest and most unconventional of skills that you have yet to discover on your own."

Recalling her endorsement of a certain teenager, her eyes finally landed on Jim and smiled at the thought. The young man, noticing the dean's attention, returned the favor before she could turn her eyes back to the crowd to resume her speech.

"It is my confession to say that I have high expectations from you lot, knowing that you will all be doing your best inside and outside of this institution. Bear that in mind and show no reluctance to every hardship that you will partake in. Finally, know for a fact that the academy is more than happy to welcome you all in open arms," she concluded, earning yet another round of applause. "That is all. You may now resume to your classes."

Stepping back from her platform, Amelia retreated to her office with the rest of the faculty gathered with her. Snapping back to reality, Jim saw the students themselves also immediately retreating to their respective buildings, a few swerving in the crowd from being apparently unsure where they should go to. Jim figured that they might be freshmen or newbies like him, stuck in the same situation he was the other day.

"Well, that was a nice opening word from the dean," Chris remarked, beginning their walk to first period. "I don't know if you guys noticed but she was literally smiling when she looked to our direction."

Dale blew his nose on a napkin, wiping it before putting away the now damp cloth back in his pocket. "I know. She still sounded pretty uptight as usual but I think she might've toned down a bit. Perhaps that comes with getting a married life?"

Jim wanted to have his say on Amelia's account but decided not to. "Maybe. Her husband's a pretty nice guy."

"You're acquainted with her husband, I take it?"

"An old friend of the family, like what my mom says."

"Then that means..." pondered Rainier until he jumped from a sudden epiphany and pointed a finger to Jim. "No way! You're close with Dean Amelia?!"

Jim shrugged, realizing that he had given himself away. "Not necessarily close, but I guess you could say that we know each other in person."

"How did you two meet? I'm ravishing to know," Rainier continued to probe.

"It's a _long_ story, but I was a cabin boy when Doc commissioned her ship for an expedition to shorten it up. That's when the two met each other apparently."

Chris was interested now. "How was it like to work for her?"

"Naturally, she put me off at first," Jim described with a chuckle.

"Naturally," snickering, he agreed.

"But she's not so bad once you get to know her. I already get that she had to be like that because, well, it's her job. And she's a captain for the Navy so... I got to know where she's getting at."

"And a dean at one of the most well-respected schools in the whole Etherium," Rainier included.

The four had finally reached the lecture hall and upon peering inside, Jim saw rows and rows of seats that sloped down to the front. Entering, the four settled themselves on an empty row of seats near the back of the room. Setting down Morph and his notepad and resting his elbows on the table, Jim then went on to observe the number of students coming from outside. The table and the chairs were all connected to each other so they literally had to slide into their seats to move in and out of it. At the left side of the room were glass windows that reached to the ceiling and red curtains set aside to let the natural lighting flood the room. At the very front was the instructor's chair and desk, complete with a blackboard and a white tarp to which a holographic projector was aimed at.

"I should've brought a decongestant," bleated Dale who caught Jim's attention, reaching in his messenger bag but took out a pencil and a notepad instead.

"I'm getting the chills, too, Dale," Rainier beamed, reaching out to mess up the blond's hair a bit. "There's nothing more exciting than attending first period at the first day."

"A chill that will last the whole day, I bet," he fretted, smoothing his tousled fringe with his fingers.

"I'm sure it wouldn't be bad," Chris comforted, reading from his schedule card. "After all, first period is history with Prof. Stephen Hoppes."

When he heard his statement, Jim simply rolled his eyes and groaned, and the Loppytonian asked upon noticing his roommate's reaction.

"Not a history buff, are you, Jim?"

"Nope," he quickly confessed and nothing else followed, closing his eyes and leaning back on his seat, fingers entwined and rested them on his stomach.

"Me, too, actually," Chris seconded. "Worst case is that we might fall asleep as soon as first period starts."

Rainier jumped in an attempt to lighten up the mood of his comrades. "Hey, how bad can it be? It's not like the teach would be droning us to snooze town."

Shortly, the clock struck seven o'clock and the last wave of students entered the room. An old man sauntered straight to the teacher's seat, a black bag on his shoulder aside from a satchel he held in his other hand. He placed the bags on the table and took out a stack of papers, handing them out to the students who went on to pass them around. Upon getting a copy, Jim read his and saw the course syllabus printed from front to back.

The man cleared his throat and activated the holographic projector, showing a slide of a portion of the content written in the sheets he gave away.

"Welcome to History II, students," the gray-haired professor began, voicing his old and gentle trait. "Today, we will have just a quick orientation of the course."

"He looks like a nice guy though," Chris whispered to Jim who nodded back.

"Now, I know history isn't really the most interesting subject in the world, but I can attest that it can be just as good as your favorites," the instructor said with a smile. "We will get to the course outline and house rules in a bit but for now, let me enlighten you with why history has the potential to be the best subject you will come across on..."

And with that, he had begun his lecture much to the chagrin of his students. In the midst of his discussion, Dale leaned closer to Rainier and whispered. "Oops, spoke too soon."

* * *

"Next subject: Mathematics," informed Rainier as they went in their next class, seeing their apparent instructor coming in the room with them.

"Oh, man," Chris grumbled while alighting on his seat. "And I thought history was already bad enough."

"Not so bad for you, Chris," bantered Dale. "At least you might be able to catch up with your beauty sleep."

They then waited for the rest of the students to come in and saw the professor setting up his equipment and preparing his handouts. Once all the students appeared to have settled down, the man started his lecture.

"Good morning, students, and welcome to Mathematics II. Full course title: Geometry and Advanced Algebra," the professor announced with a gleam contrasting the either blank or sullen faces of his students. Albeit slightly younger than the earlier professor, Jim noted that he was more lively and accommodating for someone who was graying like him.

Dale let out a long sigh and sulked on his desk, his head resting on his arms that hid his face.

"I'm Dr. Ronald Stringly, and I'll be your instructor in this course throughout the entire school year so please bear with my subject. I'm easy to get along with, class. It's the subject I'm teaching that is making itself hard to bear for you," he laughed. "Now let's get started with the syllabus."

He then gave out sheets of paper with the course's schedule, recommended readings and the same house rules printed on them. Jim looked up to the holographic monitor and saw the indicated schedule and read along as the content was discussed.

"With regards to your attendance, I won't be doing roll calls to check that but I will be conducting a quiz every meeting to do that for me." He paused and heard a few complaining groans from his students. "If you think that's bad news enough, the first attendance I'm checking will be tomorrow. That's right, we will be having a proficiency test."

The sounds of the student's complaints just got louder but the teacher still kept a straight face in spite of all that, the same beaming grin on his face and brought a finger next to it.

"Fret not, my dear friends," he soon consoled. "The test will not be graded but I will inform you guys that your score from it will serve as incentive points which I can sum up with your quiz grades. What a way to start the term, right?"

"Sure is, sir," Rainier replied in a whisper mostly to himself. He shrugged at the announcement and crossed his arms.

"But know that this test is not only for your benefit but for mine as well," he informed. "This will help me assess what approach I should do to make this course a thoroughly educational and enjoyable experience for all of you. So, I suggest that you all read up from last year's math, but don't force yourselves into it. After all, it's just a proficiency test, not the final exams."

Jim looked down on his desk and pulled out his schedule card slid within his notes. He still had biology afterwards before lunchbreak. After that, waiting for him were artillery and ship engineering, economics, and map reading aka astronomy, and thought that there was still a long day ahead of him. He then glanced at Dale who still had his head resting on his arms and eyes cast as he listened to the instructor. The brown-haired teen just did the same and breathed on his sleeve, hoping that the rest of the day would just whiz by in gilded wings.

* * *

"First day of school and I'm already beat," Jim huffed as he crashed to his bed. "I don't even want to know how the rest of the school term here will be like."

"It's not the physical stress that drains, Jim," quoted Chris, tossing his jacket on his bed and lying down. "It's the mental and emotional stress that does it."

"Not to mention that all of this would skyrocket by the time we reach midterm," included Dale.

"Ugh, I don't even want to think about all the meals I had to skip just to reach the deadlines that were coming up from all directions," Chris brought to mind. "Speaking of meals, what snacks are we having while studying for that pre-test?"

"Trail mix, Chris?" the pangolin boy offered, holding a small paper bag to Chris's direction. The Loppytonian waved an open palm to him with a small 'no' before the same offer could be done to the other bottom bunk.

"Thanks, Dale, but I'll pass," Jim declined, a hand pushing the paper bag away. Morph, however, was more enticed by the sight of the grub.

"I don't think anyone's gonna be interested in your trail mix, Dale," Rainier teased.

"More for me then," the blond reassured himself easily. He then took out a yogurt chip from the bag and brought it to his mouth. That was before the pink shape shifter could zip through to snatch it in the blink of an eye much to his surprise.

"I think it's an overstatement to think that the term would be as interesting as Dale's trail mix," ranted Chris. "We should be doing something fun to ease our minds while we're at it."

"Like playing your video games, Chris?" Jim sighed as he stood up to hang his jacket up on a clothes hanger.

Leaning on a bedpost with a hand touching his chin, Rainier deeply thought of a solution to Jim's statement. Just when the brown-haired lad had already changed into some house clothes, the antlered-teen finally had an 'aha!' moment.

"Say, you want to make this term even more interesting, Jim?" he asked with a grin.

Jim reclined on his bunk, hands behind his head, and sunk deep on his pillow. "What do you have in mind?"

"How about a game of bingo? That should be fun."

Dale suddenly complained from the top bunk. "But shouldn't we be studying?"

"We will in a sec, Dale. But I got an idea that might spice things up a bit for us while surviving sophomore year."

"You're gonna make the term interesting with a game of bingo?" Jim queried. "I'd rather play with Chris's video games even if I don't dig them."

"Hey, no one can turn down a game like Quark II!" Chris commented in protest. "Which is just the greatest first-person shooter game of the millennium and I think anyone would be a fool to resist it."

"Listen first, you guys," appealed Rainier in an attempt to clarify his idea. "It's going to be a game of bingo but with a special twist."

"What's the catch?"

"Instead of the regular game with the numbers and stuff, there's going to be specific tasks that will replace the numbers."

Dale snorted. "Like what tasks?"

Rainier pulled out a blank piece of A4 from his stationery and a pen then sat on the floor, drawing a five-by-five grid with them. As he did so, the rest of the boys scooted to the edge of their beds to listen.

"The first box here will be ticked when you aced a test," he explained, writing 'ace a test' in the said box.

Chris hummed. "Okay?"

"The second box will be ticked when you borrowed something from the library," he added, labeling that box with 'borrow from library'. "The first to tick a whole row or column before the term ends wins."

"Oh. Now I get it!" the brown-haired teen said in comprehension of his idea. "That actually sounds good, but what's there to win then?"

"Whatever you guys fancy, I guess. We could make a vote for that."

Chris recommended with a thought. "A week-long free lunch looks pretty doable, courtesy of the losers."

"Oh! That does sound good," agreed Dale.

"Well, we have a prize, gentlemen. So, who's interested?" Rainier surveyed with a raised hand.

"I'm in," Jim spoke up, with Morph swiveling and turning into a small burst of confetti beside him. "I'm up for some fun."

"I'm in, too. No one could pass up an offer like that," signed up Chris.

"I'm interested as well, but I think the rest of us should come up with other tasks so the unified game sheet will be impartial," Dale suggested.

"And to think that you're the one itching to study for the pre-test, Dale," Rainier shamed with a click of his tongue. He then climbed up on his bunk and resumed his discussion. "Well, you're right anyway. Other tasks you want to add in our grid?"

Chris chuckled suddenly. "How about getting into detention?"

"Hey, that's pretty good! I'll have to write that down," Rainier said, quickly scribbling in his notepad.

Jim brought up hesitantly. "Ride a solar surfer within the school term?"

The black-haired teen tapped a pencil on his lip in thought. "But not within campus grounds, Jim. You could get in trouble for that."

"But if that happens, I could tick off two tasks instead of one if Chris's suggestion would be included," Jim smirked.

Rainier scribbled some more. "I like the way you think, Jim. I might just add that to our list!"

It was then Dale's turn to suggest. "How about getting a romantic interest?"

"Slight problem there, Casanova," he forewarned. "I already have a girlfriend."

"Then you're already one task ahead of us if that counts," Jim suggested once more.

"Wait," halted Chris. "Is this the bunny girl you spoke to us about in freshman year?"

"Yeah. She just enrolled here this term like Jim."

"Really?" the blond peeped. "That explains why I didn't get to see her around last year."

"So, that means you two have already met before entering the academy," Jim clued in. "You both came all the way from the same place then?"

"Not at all! Monina's from Agilias. I live by the west wharf of Placidis, very far from what you probably expected." He heard a few groans from his roommates and understood immediately what they meant. "Yeah, I know. Agilias of all places but hey, you just gotta pull a few strings to make things work."

Dale stuttered. "T-Then how did you two even meet?! I know Agilias is just a boat-ride from here but Placidis is about, I don't know, seven planets away from Cresentia."

"Well, you guys already know that I sorta help my dad out with things back at home around the marina with my brothers, cleaning sloops and fixing dinghies." He looked to the newcomer and informed. "Except for you, Jim, 'cause you know, you only knew about that now."

"Yeah, it's fine," Jim reassured with a smile, a hand waved at Rainier as if to say 'it's nothing'.

"So, Mon and her family were vacationing with some relatives near our town." Rainier paused and looked to see that his pals were interested in his tale, so he continued. "One day, her aunt and uncle dropped by our shop to have their yacht engine repaired, then she appeared from out of nowhere and handed me a towel. Cliché story, I know, but it somehow worked out for the both of us."

Chris hummed in amazement. "I think it's cool that she took a shot at considering this place. At least you could get to see her in a daily basis now."

"She just kinda followed me here, is all," Rainier laughed. With another short pause, he then shook his head of the thought. "But I'll write down your suggestion just in case, Dale. While you guys think up of other possible tasks, I'll start making our sheets and yeah, yeah, I _will_ study for the pre-test. Hope you guys don't mind if I leave the light on so late for that."

"Anything that keeps you up, Rainier," Jim waved before grabbing his math textbook on the bedside table. "Well, I should be reading up for that test then. I don't want to get caught staring at my blank test paper for the whole period."

"Or fall asleep during it," Chris seconded.

Peeking behind his math reviewer, Dale declared with a pump of his fist. "I don't know about you guys but that first task is mine!"


	5. A Helping Hand

**IV. A Helping Hand**

* * *

"... You may start reading up on your first set of reading assignments as soon as now. And oh, be sure to bring your self-assessment exercise on Thursday!"

The school bell rang at the most unexpected of times and broke Jim's subconscious trance from the words of the literature professor, his concentration overwhelmed by drones of the class syllabus being discussed that seemed like it would never end. His half-opened eyes flung wide open and immediately he sat up. "Did she say anything else? I wasn't listening."

"Just a reminder of the homework and stuff," gathering his things, Chris replied. "I suppose you got the rest of what she said before that."

He hummed in affirmation with a scratch on the back of his neck, and gave a monotonous reply. "Oh, yeah. I did."

"Well, it _is_ the first week of the term, Jim," Rainier reassured with a pat of Jim's back, standing up from his seat. "Classes are usually a drag around this time but things should be escalating smoothly by next week."

Chris breathed with a hand on his chest. "I'm just relieved for an interchanging schedule of history and literature. I don't think I could take a daily routine of one of them."

"But you can take a daily routine of algebra," Rainier assessed.

"It's not like I have a choice. Right, Dale?"

Odd enough, there came no expected response to his statement. "Dale?"

Troubled by his unnerving muteness, the two then looked to the blond and saw him staring at the very front of the room. Rainier waved a hand in front of his face but still failed to catch his attention. Curious of what the boy was ogling at, he set his sights to the direction of Dale's gaze and simply saw the literature teacher organizing her things.

Suddenly, the pangolin boy puffed. "Where do you think Prof. Everly is from?"

Upon hearing his query, the black-haired Cervid instantly scrutinized the woman and attempted to make a deduction as he thought out loud. Her clothing style, a powder blue dress ornately stitched and decorated, was similar to those worn by the locals at the Cygnus Cross star cluster, but her pale gray skin color and long argentine hair dictated that she was perhaps from the Cloud Nebula, resembling the race of moon-people who lived there.

Giving up, Rainier just shrugged. "I have no idea, dude. What made you ask that?"

"No reason. I was just curious, I guess."

The Loppytonian then took a shot at it and made a quick observation. "Me either, but she does dress a bit... weird, even for my Montressorian standards."

"True, but I think it still suits her very nicely. Makes her attractive even..."

"Well, she looks nice anyway," Jim commented. "But I won't go _that_ far to say that she's attractive. Unless..."

Chris wondered what Jim would say. "Unless what?"

"I don't know... you're actually attracted to her or something."

Dale tapped his chin and unsurely said. "I guess I could put it in those terms."

"Oh. My. Stars." Rainier gasped and immediately clutched the blond by his shoulders. "I can't believe you _actually_ dig Prof. Marian Everly!"

Panic-stricken, Dale quickly pulled Rainier down and covered his mouth with a hand, afraid that the news might reach anyone else's ears. He shushed the gossiper, his hands nervously trembling on his grasp. "Rainier, you're being too loud!"

"Can I help it if I caught you red-handed?!" he continued to taunt despite his already mumbled speech as his roommate continued to hush him.

As if by cue, the instructor waved a hand and called out from the front. "Can someone be a dear and assist me with a few things?"

With his captor distracted, Rainier took the opportunity and freed himself from Dale's grip and stood up straight. "We would _love_ to help, Prof. Everly!" Rainier shouted, raising Dale's hand despite his protests.

"No, no, no..." Dale whimpered as he struggled to pull his hand away from his roommate.

"Oh, good! Thank heavens," beamed the teacher at the sight of the volunteers. "So, I'm expecting four helping hands?"

"Eight, ma'am. That is if you don't mind the extra four," the Cervid said, indicating Jim and Chris.

"I don't mind at all. The more hands, the better," she acknowledged, leaving the desk and going up the lecture hall stairs, and invited them over. "Come, please follow me to my office."

They took after her and as they walked through the hallway, Jim made a note of how her braided hair looped up at the back of her head before falling along her blue satin dress. He then noticed the intricate embroidery on her sleeves and at the hem of her dress, stitched there with dozens of tiny rhinestone beads. He realized then that the professor was probably from a well-off family, seeing that her posh attire was something his mother couldn't afford, even after two months' worth of paycheck.

"My Tuesday schedule is absolutely loaded and I still have four sets of class syllabuses to hand out separately," she explained. "I'm going to need you boys to help me carry them to my next class so I won't need to keep returning to my room to get them."

"Absolutely, ma'am! We're more than glad to be at your service," Rainier bowed and slyly winked at Dale who groaned in protest.

Shortly, they have arrived in her office. Prof. Everly approached her desk where the four stacks of handouts were as Jim looked around while she handed them to his comrades. He saw a shelf of books, most of them were compilations of stories and he wondered if any of them contained the tale of Flint's trove that he loved as a kid. He thought it just remained a tale until the fateful day when Billy Bones' ship crashed near the Benbow Inn. That single event marked the beginning of the biggest adventure in his young life.

One of the walls of her room was etched with a map of the entire Terran Empire and Jim noticed that it was all done by hand, from the meticulously rendered star clusters to the most intricate details of the planets.

"You drew this yourself, ma'am?" he asked in a whim.

She turned to him and gave a modest reply. "My hands are pretty artsy."

"With this, I could say you pretty much have a calling in cartography. Why teach literature then?"

She chuckled, bringing a stack of handouts with her. "I had a colleague who asked me the same thing once."

"What'd you say?" he speculated, his hands having been laden with the cargo.

"Short and simple: because I love literature."

They then left for her next class, with the professor leading the way and the four boys trailing right behind her, each carrying their own load of syllabuses.

Rainier teased through their silence. "See? Doesn't it feel nice to help out, _Dale_?"

"At the expense of getting a paper cut, I'm not so sure anymore."

Covering his face from the instructor with the handouts he held, Rainier whispered. "So, should I ask her for you?"

"Don't. You. Dare," he warned through gritted teeth.

But he asked anyway, and straight to the point he was. "So, where are you from, Prof. Everly? From the way your looks are giving it away, I mean with your hair and all, I'll make a quick guess and say that you came all the way from the Cloud Nebula."

"You're close, dear," she giggled. "But no, I'm from the first city of planet Arcturus."

Jim processed the thought. "Arcturus? Around Cygnus Cross?"

"Around those parts."

"Wow, I'm way off," the antlered teen bounced back. "But it makes sense though, guessing from your get up."

"But you're not wrong either," she comforted as they were already nearing her class. "My parents were born and raised in Pixis, and I've had my fair share of back trips there. Why do you ask?"

He quoted Dale's words in verbatim with a smirk. "No reason, ma'am. Just curious, I guess."

Stepping at the doorstep of the lecture hall, the four let the professor go inside first. Rainier then uttered to his comrades when she was several feet away from them.

"I _was_ right! Well, sort of. I know a line of moon-people when I see them."

She then invited the boys in to a room full of other sophomore students and had them set down her handouts on her table. Rainier turned to the crowd and waved to a person among them. His pals set their sights there and saw a female student waving back to him, the bunny girl as how Chris described her, with large peach-colored ears flopping behind her head like a pair of ponytails.

"Well, you can leave the rest to me. Thanks for helping out, boys," she finally saluted. "Oh, and do drop by my room this afternoon for some moon cakes. It's the least I could offer as my thanks for your assistance."

"Sure thing, ma'am," Jim replied before they left her, thinking that he couldn't even remember the time he actually had a moon cake before in his life. On the other hand, he felt Morph squirm in his pocket upon hearing the offer of promised cake.

Dale fumed to the instigator under his breath. "Ugh, you're a handful! You're impossible!"

"What?" Rainier sassed. "Can't I at least get an, I don't know, 'way to go, Rainier!' or something along those lines?"

They had stepped out of the room and then it occurred to them that second period was about to start in under one minute.

* * *

"Way to go, Rainier," grumbled Chris while hurrying to their next class, the four of them bolted with a skip in their steps.

Dale agreed with a huff. "Like I said, a real handful."

"If you think I'm a handful enough, you guys should meet my girlfriend!"

They passed by the teacher's lounge and one instructor in particular spotted them, a half-eaten powdered spheroid in hand, and yelled. "Hey! No running in the halls!"

"Sorry, sir!" Jim yelled back. "Won't happen again!"

Shortly, they stopped at the lecture hall's doorstep to catch their breaths. Upon entering, they saw that almost a lot of the seats were taken, some seats in their usual row already occupied, and the rest of the vacant ones are already scattered about.

Dale sighed in defeat. "If only we've gotten here earlier, there would've been a whole row of seats waiting for us."

With an unfaltering confidence, Rainier justified still. "But I _did_ get to strike up a chat with Prof. Everly for you and get free moon cakes for the rest of us. That's not so bad now, isn't it?"

Jim spoke on his account with a shot at breaking off the heated putdowns. "And giving her the little help she needs pays off for all that anyway."

Admiring his cause, Dale breathed. "That's so noble of you to say, Jim. So absolutely true."

"Well, we don't have much of a choice now, do we?" the brown-haired teen sighed, beginning his search for a vacant chair. "I'll see you guys after the test then."

"Right," Chris agreed. "See ya later, Jim."

Rainier appended with a thumbs-up. "And good luck!"

Jim waved back before making his way to a vacant seat along the aisle, right beside a sullen-looking alpaca boy whose ruffled hair covered up his eyes entirely. He even questioned how the guy could see through them and was tempted to wave a hand in front of him to check. Once settled down, he simply waited for the class to start and didn't bother to go back into his algebra notes (not that he brought any). He thought he would rather compose himself and have a clear start instead of muddling up his thoughts with a last minute brush up.

Just when the math professor had entered the room, a student from his row suddenly moved out and went to another seat, right at the front where an acquaintance invited him over and the alpaca kid then moved away from him. Left with no one, Jim complained, thinking that he could've invited one of his roommates over if only the student had changed seats earlier. It was too late however, since the teacher had already begun.

"Alright, students," he urged. "Let's get a move on and go occupy some seats."

As Jim spun a pen around his fingers to amuse him, a person walked to him and stood beside his table.

"Hey," the student spoke to get his attention. "Is that seat taken?"

Jim paused from his activity and looked up to see the shadow of a girl, clutching a notepad in her arm and pointing to the seat beside him.

"No," replied Jim, quickly moving seats to make room for the newcomer. "Go ahead."

Without a word, she settled herself down and flipped to one of the pages in her notebook. With nothing else to do, Jim decided to take a small gander in it and recognized the list of mathematical formulas despite the scrawled handwriting as if it had been made in a rush. He glanced to the notepad's owner, her pale skin had a light tint of lime and her short black hair was in a pair of small pigtails that almost reached her shoulders where a pink scarf wrapped around her neck rested.

Noticing him staring at her, she briskly turned to face him. "What?"

"Nothing," replied Jim, recovering from his momentary daze. "I just noticed that you're still reading up."

"I like racking my brains out before an exam apparently," she jested.

"Right..." he trailed off, noting how his earlier thoughts didn't exactly agree to hers. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

"That's easy for you to say."

"Not at all," he disagreed. Algebra wasn't one of Jim's favorites. He hated how theoretical it was and how it didn't seem to suit his interest in the more applied sciences. If there were any core subjects he was liking at the time, it would be ship engineering and map reading. Other than that, everything else weighed neutral but math was obviously at the other end of the stick for him.

With that, the girl remained silent and continued with her review. Jim looked away from her and decided to let her be, seeing that it would be for the best. She looked nice and all but there was something standoffish about her that Jim couldn't put a finger on.

"Okay, guys. Small announcement," the instructor then spoke with an armful of test papers. "As you all know, we're having a proficiency test today. I didn't announce it yesterday but here's the catch: you can work _with a partner_. That's right, you can team up with one of your seatmates to answer the test if you'd like to. Just indicate at the front page your partner's name in case you've decided to make the test a team effort."

Jim looked to his separate roommates but saw no available seats beside them. Even Rainier was pouting at him when he looked to where he was. Seeing no choice, the teenager decided to make do with the two seatmates he had at the moment, the alpaca boy and the girl who had stowed her notes away.

The math instructor then handed out the papers to the class, instructing them not to start until he said so. He waited until all of the students each had a copy of their own then announced once more. "No cheating in the test as usual, so I don't want to catch anyone sneaking any crib notes under my watch. Finally, do your best!"

Upon his word, the students began chatting with their chosen partners, their mumbles filled the hall as they grabbed their pens and started working on the exam. Jim peered to the alpaca kid and saw that he was already patched with someone else. With the kid out of his options, the brown-haired lad was left with the girl, who apparently never bothered to ask for help and went on to answer the test quietly on her own. He didn't want to bother her, seeing how immersed she already was with her work. Deciding to just do the same thing, Jim was situated to simply turn to his test paper and begin answering.

From time to time, he would skip certain test items he couldn't bring a decent solution to and just move on to another. He would then make revisions and would rewrite his solutions, and rewrite and rewrite again. About to reach the end of the test, Jim breathed and browsed over his answers. He froze when he realized that most of the items were blank or had solutions that he was unsure of to some degree. Taking another stab at it, he revised once more.

He then noticed the black-haired girl place her pen on the table, already finished and with her paper facing down. Jim glanced to the clock at the very back of the room and saw that he still had less than an hour to finish everything up. His eyes scanned the room, seeing the back of the heads of his classmates and of his companions who were still busy with the remaining test items. His mind fought between just waiting it all out since he didn't want to pursue the rest of it, and just pushing on as what his conscience told him to do. He took a deep breath from all the pressure and whispered comfort to himself. "It's just a proficiency test, no big deal."

Hearing his exasperated sigh, his female seatmate nudged out of concern. "You okay?"

"Huh?" he snapped out again from her sudden notice. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine, just fine."

She hummed, playing along like she was actually convinced by his response, then whipped her head around to check the time. "We still have about thirty minutes left. Wanna team up?"

As much as he wanted to, Jim doubted her offer since it felt too convenient that she would appear to him just when he was about to give up, so he questioned her. "But we're already more than an hour in and you'd want to team up just now? I didn't think you'd even want to since you're already doing so well on your own."

"I wouldn't say that."

Still lightly embarrassed upon considering his predicament, he just looked away. "Forget it."

"So, I take it that you're doing just fine?"

"I just said I'm fine a while ago," he retorted with a tilt of his head and a roll of his eyes, beginning to get aggravated by her prying. "Even if I'm not, what makes you think I'll change my mind and take up your offer?"

Unconvinced and irked by the fact that he wouldn't admit it, she quickly snatched his test paper from the table and skimmed directly through his answers, holding it to her face while her other hand swatted away all of Jim's attempts to take it from her.

"Hey!" he jumped, his hands reaching out to his questionnaire with a couple of students at the back of their row noticing their miniscule frisking. "Give that back!"

She hummed again, sounding unimpressed by what she just read. "Well, you're not wrong. We already know forty-two is the ultimate answer to everything."

An upended Jim pushed his reach up and instantly grabbed the sheet from her grip, slightly crumpling it. His blood boiled and his face heated and blushing furiously as the humiliation set in. He rested an arm on his table while his other hand cupped his face of a scowl, facing away from her so he could only see her through his peripheral vision.

"If you're gonna fake your way out of an algebra test, I know you could do better than that. I've been there before," she smoothly advised as she straightened herself up, ironing out the wrinkles that had been made on her uniform.

Jim clicked his tongue and scoffed. "Whatever, so just buzz off."

"I will." She crossed her arms and pouted. "So much for helping you out, right?"

Jim wanted to nod but he was more upset than anything, just the idea that she was constantly one thought ahead of him ticked him off. Instead, he just remained silent, calming himself down from their uncalled for commotion. He still refused to look at her straight and simply heard her sigh in apparent annoyance. He later felt a hand, however, grab his own and pull it from his face. He turned to her and the moment he noticed that she was holding his hand, he felt time freeze from his confusion.

Her firm round eyes met his riled-up stare and he immediately thought of pulling his hand away from her. That was until she placed a pen on his palm and curled up his fingers on it. She then let go of him, slipped his paper in their midst and pointed a pen to the first blank item on his paper, tapping on it to get his attention there.

"Look, you have to square both sides of the equation first..."

Jim listened in and upon focusing on his test paper, it was as if all the murmurs in the room had died down and he could barely hear them, being drowned by the girl's instructions. He felt the demand for his undivided attention in her tone, and went with it despite his disinterest. Jim heeded, eyebrows furrowed and still dubious of her cause. Although unwilling at first, he actually learned from her and just surprised himself when he finally understood everything that needed to be done for his revisions.

She then handed back the paper to him and let him do everything on his own. Seeing her in a new light, he would tap her arm when he was stuck with an item and she would simply help him out. Once they were done, it was just about time to submit their papers. Jim handed his paper to her and didn't notice that she had written her name on it as what the professor instructed, and she passed them to the front. As the students began standing up from their seats and leaving the room, Jim's seatmate was already walking away when he realized that he had forgotten the small task, bringing a hand to his face with a groan.

"I didn't write my name on your paper," he called to her.

She stopped halfway out of the room and sighed, walking back and giving him a small pat on his shoulder. It was then that he got to see her in full and from that, it would've been even harder for him to think that someone dainty like her could actually be quite troublesome, with the green eyes, blushed cheeks and all.

"It's not like you _actually_ helped me out with the test," she sneered. "But it's fine. You can trust me when I say I'll handle this and go follow it up to Dr. Stringly."

"Are you sure? I don't want to think that I've troubled you enough."

"Well, I started it after all." She tilted her head to the doorway. "Besides, I think those are your friends waiting for you."

Jim turned to the direction and there stood Rainier and Chris, with Dale climbing the stairs up to them with a wheeze. Just as he was about to thank her, the girl had already fled. He wanted to ask what her name was but didn't get the chance to since she was already talking things out with the math teacher. He chose to just let her be once more and shook his head of the thought as he walked to the boys.

"Come on, guys!" Rainier invited. "We have moon cakes waiting for us."

On their way to their next class, Jim wanted to ask his friends if they knew who the black-haired girl was but his plans of inquisition were shattered by Chris's unsettling comment.

"If Prof. Everly's from a line of moon-people, then what exactly are moon cakes made of?"


	6. The Admiral's Daughter

**V. The Admiral's Daughter**

* * *

A hand on his cheek while the other tapped a pen on the sheet of paper in front of him, Jim contemplated about whether he had done a fine job on his literature homework or just went with the first thing he could put in it. He wasn't too keen with self-evaluation, seeing how his meddlesome childhood had made a number on a lot of his life choices, all of it affected by the unexpected departure of his father, Leland Hawkins.

Jim's erratic behavior back then also didn't help the situation one bit, and was often the prime source of trouble for his mother who did what she could to keep them and their business afloat. But now, he was definitely making an effort to change from that, to prove that he could become more than the dead-ender he thought he was. Just when things were already taking a turn in his life now, he wondered if he could have made a better output on his homework if his life's plot twist had only happened to him sooner.

He slumped his arms on his table and rested his head, rummaging through the words he wrote on his paper. By comparison, he realized that he probably made even better entries in his personal journal which were often accompanied by hand-drawn sketches. He thought that perhaps he could've made his work a bit more interesting by etching a few in it. However, despite their apparent similar interest in drawing, he knew that Prof. Everly wouldn't be pleased with that addition, remembering her statement the other day that drew the fine line that distinguished her interest in art to the subject she was teaching. It was a literature class after all, not an art class.

Rainier shortly approached him and the rest of the gang, apparently coming from the other lecture hall to check on Monina like he said he would. He threw his arms out and wrapped them on Jim's and Chris's shoulders, his self-assessment paper rolled up in one hand and Dale still not warming up to him after his shock from the other day.

"Hey, guys! Missed me?"

"No," deadpanned Chris. "But I bet the bunny girl did."

He affirmed with a click of his heels. "Of course, she did."

Jim groggily followed up. "Even though you practically see each other every day?"

"Like I said, she's more of a handful than you guys ever thought I would be."

Dale cut in. "And it doesn't help that she's got you already accomplishing one task in campus bingo."

"_You_ made that task in the first place, Dale. Can't blame me for that. Besides, Jim's already acquainted with that girl from math class last Tuesday," recalled Rainier. "I'm sure that might lead to something."

He sat up upon hearing his comment and corrected. "Not true. I didn't even catch her name, not that I need to know what it is either."

"But that shouldn't stop you from winning the game," the blond pushed on. "Rainier's already one task ahead of us. Are you going to let him take that?"

"Take it easy, Dale. There's still twenty-four other tasks that we can take on, we're still in the first week of class, and it's only Thursday. It's not like everything depends on just going out with people."

"No, but you won't win unless you submit a love poem in literature class." Chris pulled out his game sheet from his notebook and pointed to the middlemost square to show it to them. "That's all you need to do to get a sure chance at nailing it."

Jim's mouth curved into a smirk, sounding not too sure of himself. "I think I can take that much."

"Wait, what?" In doubt, Rainier took the sheet from the Loppytonian's hand for a closer examination. "I got that right in the middle?"

"You made the game sheets and you can't even remember what you put in them?!" guffawed Chris.

"I was studying for the proficiency test, and it was past twelve midnight," he reasoned, waving his hand in the air upon his baffling realization. "I didn't expect myself to remember anything but the dang quadratic formula!"

"Oh, boy," Dale slurred, sliding a hand on his face.

"Let me see what else I did to the sheet," he said, continuing to inspect his craft. "All I remember is I picked the best ones from your recommendations and took six from each of us regardless of the difficulty level."

"Difficulty level?"

"Yeah. From one to five, I graded the tasks on how easy they are to do. There's one task per level on each row or column of the grid so they're evenly scattered about. That's all I remember doing but I didn't even know what the heck I was throwing at it, geez! Who even suggested the poem-thing anyway?"

"That would be me," Dale bashfully peeped. "But I didn't think you'd make it the prime task of the game."

Rainier frowned at the pangolin boy who was now laughing at his slip-up, and he admitted in defeat. "That makes two of us."

Prof. Everly soon entered the room on her way to the teacher's desk, and Jim even noticed Dale let out a small dreamy sigh once she had settled her things down. He even noticed the similar cut of her blue dress, styled like the one she wore the other day with only a variation in the patchwork and stitching. Jim thought to himself that perhaps Prof. Everly had a set of similar clothes, which was not unusual for him since most of the clothes he owned himself were all nearly identical to each other. Adding to that was the fact that he had to wear a matching set of academy uniform on a daily basis now.

"Okay, class. Please submit your self-assessment exercises to the front," she announced with a clap of her hand, her students doing so right away. "While you're at it, I have a very important announcement to make."

She glanced to her class for a minute, observing the wave of papers slowly moving towards the front, with some late teenagers frantically catching up with the submission. "Today, I will only give you an orientation for one of the primary requirements in my course: your literature project. I know that it's way too early in the term for me to give it to you but it's an output that will last your entire school year so it's best that you prepare yourselves right now. We will start with the introduction to the weekly writing exercises that you are required to submit."

And the expected groans from the students were heard as she collected their paperwork. "Now, now. You won't be working on all of this alone. I have already paired you up with someone and the list was already prepared last night, completely randomized and unbiased. Now everyone, please stand up and vacate all seats."

On her word, she invited the class to leave their respective chairs and had them stood at the back of the lecture hall like she instructed them to.

"As I call your names, please occupy the seats that I will indicate in the order that I announce you."

She then began her roll call, the first student making his way to the very first seat from the left at the front row. The second one was directed to the seat beside him, and so on.

"Christopher Levey."

Hearing his name mentioned, the Loppytonian saluted to his pals and made his way to his indicated seat. Settling down, he waited for the arrival of his assigned partner who followed him soon enough once his name was called. The enumeration went on until the whole second row was already occupied.

"James Hawkins."

The lad then waved to his two remaining roommates who were still waiting for their turn to be called. He then took his seat and simply waited for the entire listing to finish, or at least until his project partner was already seated with him.

"Katherine Blake."

Jim looked from behind and thought that the name sounded familiar, ringing somewhere in the back of his mind. His speculation was cleared when she walked to his side and sat beside him, sharing a familiar eye contact with the red-haired girl he had met several days ago. She looked prim and proper still, with the same light brown eyes which held that distinct stare and an air that gave away the vibe that she was not one for messing around with things.

Since they weren't that fully acquainted yet, he decided to just sit quietly as the instructor carried on with pairing up the rest of the class. Once all had been seated, she moved on to the briefing of her requirements.

"Now listen closely, class. Every week, you will have individual writing exercises that you are required to submit every week. That means in one team, I will still be expecting one output from each member. Your outputs could traverse different media. It can be an essay, a story, a limerick, anything you want as long as it's an original work. I also appreciate variation so feel free to use any of them interchangeably. However, your work should _all_ revolve on a central theme to make your submissions consistent since you'll be compiling them all up as your final project. As long as you get to submit your weekly exercises on time, you already have a sure chance in getting a good grade on your project."

It was perhaps Prof. Everly wanted them to do the project in the slowly-but-surely, step-by-step method that she had decided to arrange the project composition like that, in hopes that everything should go smoothly for her students. Jim half-grinned to himself, thinking that it was a clever approach, but not necessarily from thinking that he already got this all in the bag.

"You will be basing your exercises on a topic that I will assign each week. My topic is separate from the main theme that you'll come up with so the challenge for you is how you'll get to align my topic with your theme. Now for your own theme, it can be anything under the sun. It can be something concrete or an abstract thought. It can be anything that you prefer as long as the content adheres to my guidelines. Is that clear to everyone?"

A short and uneven 'yes, ma'am' filled the room from her students, and she smiled and clasped her hands in delight of their comprehension.

"For your first writing exercise, the first topic coming from me is about the first stage of the reading process: pre-reading. Your self-evaluation exercise should give you a head start for that," she encouraged with a wink. "Seeing that you're all prepped up to get working, let's get into your deadlines."

As the professor went on with the announcement, Jim glanced to the red-haired girl beside him from the corner of his eye. Her skin was lightly tan and her wavy red hair cascaded and tucked behind her lion-like ears, still in a low bun at the back of her head. He noticed that she was scribbling down an outline, neat and organized, of all the significant details and not a single one being left unnoticed. He didn't bother to break off her concentration or also write down on his own notepad since he didn't feel the need to. His focus soon returned to the instructor who was about done giving out her pointers.

Prof. Everly then left the floor for the students to brief themselves with their assigned work. Jim turned to the Leonid beside him, unsure of how to break the ice with his designated partner.

"Hey. I don't know if you remember, but—"

"I remember," she turned to face him and replied. "You got lost in the student affairs building last Sunday."

"So... Katherine, right?"

"Kate is fine, Jim."

He smiled at her recognition, and that she even remembered how he introduced himself. "Then Kate it is. So... how do we start?"

"We're not exactly in the right situation to research right now," she supposed. "Doing that will be best in the library for later, but we should first brainstorm on a proper theme for our overall compilation."

"Any good themes coming to mind?"

"I'm leaning more into academics, but I don't think you'd agree with that."

"Not at all. I think it's a good idea," he backed her up. "Should help us work on something more relatable."

"I should probably narrow that down still, be more specific in scope."

Jim suggested upon picking up from her insight. "How about the life of a student?"

Kate hesitated with his idea. "As much as I want to deliberate on that, our outputs would be difficult to integrate since, well, we more or less see things differently. For instance, boys like you won't see things eye-to-eye with girls like myself. That's just one trait that separates our ideals but I think I got my point across."

"I get your point, but what's so wrong with that? It could give us a chance to explore each other's interests. Like how a girl and a boy student, specifically you and me, would probably agree or disagree on a lot of things. That should give some sort of depth into our work."

She complimented in high regard of his wit. "An insightful suggestion, but you probably won't agree with me on a lot of things."

He crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat, then asked out of curiosity. "Well, what do girls like you think about?"

She pondered, enumerating the first thing that went in her mind with her fingers. "My scholastic performance, my family, fiction and non-fiction novels, and boys." She jerked when she realized what she had just said and immediately explained what she was trying to imply. "Not in the way you probably think, but how I critique people in general."

"Yeah, that's going to be kinda hard for me to line up with."

She also crossed her arms with a tilt of her head and sneered. "Obviously. All boys like you probably ever think about are solar surfing and games."

Jim wanted to have a say in it, clearly affronted by her words but he also didn't want to correct them since he couldn't deny that he was already caught guilty as charged. "That's not _entirely_ true" was all the strength that he could answer with.

In consolation to his apparent defeat, she asked in a lighter tone, thinking that he could actually prove her wrong. "In what aspect am I wrong then?"

"For one, you're not wrong about the solar surfing part."

"Predictable."

"But that's not just all that we ever think about. We think about our families, our friends, our academics." Suddenly, the thought of campus bingo entered his mind. After all, that was all he and his roommates could think about apart from their piling up schoolwork. He remembered how Rainier was already one task ahead of them, and even pitched him with the girl he was partnered with the other day. He looked away with uncertainty and added. "And we think about girls, too."

In clarification of his statement, she followed up. "Generally how you think about people, too, perhaps?"

"Maybe. But you know, anything could lead to something."

She nearly choked on his words, a wave of heat crept on her cheeks and she quickly covered up her red-faced self with a cough. "... Anyway, I will consider your idea."

Pleased with her announcement, he turned to her once more and smiled. "Thanks."

"We could start working on our respective writing exercises tonight and you could give me a progress report tomorrow after biology class. I'll share mine in return."

Jim simply hummed in approval and nodded back, seeing in the back of his mind that this was a good excuse for him to go research in the library and even borrow something out for reference. One bingo task accomplished, it would be.

* * *

"Can we stop by my locker for a bit?" Dale excused once he had gathered with his roommates at the room's doorway. "I need to grab something important really quick."

Rainier nodded. "Sure, but what could be more important than your inhaler?"

Jim queried. "A decongestant?"

"Trail mix?" guessed Chris.

The blond nervously twirled his fingers in hesitation. "Something else. I'd rather not say."

"Let's go then. I'm dying to know what it is," Rainier invited with a taunt.

"Say, Jim," called Chris. "Did you get everything that Prof. Everly said? I kinda lost track on some of her guidelines."

"No problem," he replied and held up Delbert's tape recorder. He pressed on a button to briefly play a recording of Prof. Everly beginning with her announcement. "Got it all right here."

While Chris and Dale were all smiles at his newsflash, Rainier eyed the handheld and pointed a doubting finger to it. "Is that Morph or is it the real thing?"

"It's the real thing," Jim assured.

Just when he heard his name, the pink shape shifter rose out of Jim's pocket, squeaked 'real thing' repeatedly in his tiny voice and flew around the black-haired teenager, before resting behind his shoulder when he saw some students pass them by. Among them was Jim's writing partner, apparently approaching the brown-haired lad to speak to him. Even Jim thought to himself how sharp she actually looked from just the way she carried herself around. Aside from that, he mulled about how she still got to make herself look nice even in uniform.

"Jim," spoke Kate. "Remember, progress report tomorrow. Biology class."

"Yeah, I got it. I won't let you down," he assured once more, smoothly with a salute.

The lass then continued her way out of the room and when she was finally out of sight, the Loppytonian made a comment. "I'm amazed by how you can talk to her so casually."

As they strolled through the main hallway, Jim questioned. "What do you mean? Is it because she's a girl?"

"Actually yeah, Jim," Dale confessed. "But that's just part of the whole reason why I can't bring myself to look at her straight in the eye."

"I only see her as a classmate, guys. And I'm not even thinking that I'd get anywhere with her."

"Jimmy Jim Jim," cooed Rainier. "There's a whole lot about _the_ Katherine Blake that you don't know."

"Alright..." he conceded with a shrug, stuffing his free hand in his pocket. "What am I missing with Kate then?"

They soon arrived by the lockers where several other students were also going through their belongings. Stopping right where Dale's was, Rainier warned. "Here's the thing: you won't want to mess with her. Ever. Just stick with that advice and you'll be fine."

"Consider it done. I don't even plan to mess with anybody around here."

"But Kate the Blake is not just anybody, Jim."

Dale swung his locker open and informed. "She's Admiral Blake's daughter."

"Admiral Blake, the main man of the entire Royal Navy," Chris followed up. "Well, one of the highest ranking officers there, to say the least."

"Admiral Blake," Jim mused, picturing in his mind the long-haired officer in his red Royal Navy uniform. "Now I see. I mean I can see the resemblance. That's good to know."

"But you still sound so chill about it! Even after knowing the fact that you're partnered with an admiral's overachieving daughter who's been holding the rank one position for a year straight in our batch and would probably cut you to pieces if you piss her off!" Rainier fretted, the little blob on his shoulder slightly shook up by his sudden exclamation. "Yeah, I don't think she'll do _anything_ to you as long as you don't get yourself in a heap of trouble with her."

"Or do poorly in the writing exercises," reflected Dale. "Since it's a team effort, you would be dragging her down with you if you flunk it."

"Then there's her admiral of a father. I don't even want to know how you'd get into a situation so bad that you'd _have_ to meet with him personally. Just the thought of what could happen from that point on freaks me out," Rainier shuddered, feeling threatened by his own words.

Chris let out a heavy sigh. "That's so. Much. Pressure."

"Hey, guys. Relax," Jim appeased with an open hand (he would've used two if only he didn't have his notebook and tape recorder with him) to calm down his already agitated roommates, although he's the one who should be in their place. "I did tell her I'm not gonna let her down. Besides, it's not like I'm doing what I can in this writing exercise as a favor from her. I'm doing it for myself so whether she'd like my work or not, she would have to deal with it."

"Setting aside the fact that her father's a Royal Navy Admiral?"

"Doesn't have anything to do with it. Yeah, I get that I should respect her dad. Fear him even. I know you would say that I should maybe fear his daughter, too, but I guess I just don't see it that way. Kate is Kate, and she's just a classmate. Nothing more to that."

"Well, if you say so, Jim," Rainier finally permitted. "But in case you happen to throw down with Kate the Blake or something, the boys and I got your back."

Jim smiled at his proffered support, his roommates agreeing with him. "Thanks, guys."

Chris then spoke up to lighten the mood and change the topic of discussion. "So, are you all ready for what will be served to us in biology today?"

Rainier scoffed. "Biology doesn't even start in an hour, Chris."

Jim laughed. "You're making it sound like they're serving us out food like in the cafeteria."

"No, but the way we would be talking about innards sure is close enough," defended the Loppytonian.

"Now you know what I had to drop by my locker for," Dale cut in with a sigh.

"Your barf bag?"

"Yup," he nodded and held up the unused and still folded up paper bag. "Better prepare myself for when I get queasy from just thinking about it."

The pangolin boy closed his locker behind him and the boys made their way to their algebra class. A couple of cabinets away, Kate hid from them behind her locker door and breathed out of relief upon knowing that the four wouldn't be passing her by since they might think she was eavesdropping. She wouldn't deny that though since she had heard everything perfectly clear, even the inept nickname the Cervid used when he pertained to her. She wanted to make an appeal on that, but contained herself from doing so as it would only confirm the speculation.

She closed her storage and among the four teenaged boys, her bright eyes were locked in on the brown-haired human who was throwing his head back laughing and joking with the others while a little pink blob hovered near him. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion and walked, in the opposite direction to where the boys were headed, to her next class, thanking the stars that she wouldn't be seeing his face for the next one and a half hour.


	7. Six Shooter

**VI. Six Shooter**

* * *

"Now class, who can give me the difference between the impacts of laser and plasma loads upon firing?"

Artillery engineering class was almost over for the week and the professor was down to his last couple of questions for the day's meeting. Aside from the other dozen of students willing to answer his query, Chris immediately raised his hand and leaned up a bit on his seat.

"Sir!" he called out, with Jim counting the times he had done so to pass the time, to keep himself alert or from spacing out. So far, it was about to be the sixth instance the Loppytonian had recited in this class as seen from the tally marks made in his notebook.

"Yes, Mr. Levey," the instructor called back, smoothing his thick black mustache that seemed to have been combed as neat as his hair with his fingers. It was even believed that he might have also smeared a bit of pomade on it to keep it in place. One could know when they got close enough to smell the deliberately applied perfume-y hair product on him.

"They have the same effect, sir," answered Chris. "But the technology and material used in making plasma shots had given it the ability to deflect wind velocity. That's why they're faster, have a longer firing distance than laser ammos, and can even have a larger impact area due to its speed."

The teacher nodded his head in approval. To test whether his class had gone into a more thorough reading of the topic, he decided to throw in a bonus question. "Aside from that, plasma loads have a unique characteristic that cannot be found in lasers or in any other form of ammunition. What would that be?"

Confident, the Loppytonian grinned and went on with his answer. "They have a potential to literally vaporize a bigger portion of the target on impact because of the advanced light energy they've been charged with."

"Excellent answer," he praised with a small applause. "I was planning to make those questions the class's homework to do research on for the weekend, but since Mr. Levey already answered for the rest of you, then there's no need for me to do that."

Chris sat down, a smile on his face, and smugly crossed his arms. His roommates each gave him their own gestures for a job well done, with Rainier elbowing him in jest, Jim patting him on the shoulder, and Dale raising his hand for a high-five, thankful for one less homework to be done.

"In compensation for that, I will only be giving you a short reading assignment for next meeting so you will have an overview of the topic that will be discussed and so you are guided with it," he added, receiving mixed reactions from his students. Most of them were moderately pleased with the announcement, although it later occurred to the unsatisfactory bunch that it wasn't an obligatory task and just rolled with it.

While he carried on with his lecture, Jim's attention was caught by Dale who was covertly busy with his decongestant nasal spray. From the blond's messenger bag, Jim noticed a set of pens held together by a rubber band and his bag of trail mix slightly peeking from inside.

It was only recently that the brown-haired teenager realized why their other two roommates were quite dismissive of it. The thought that it was composed of all dried fruit, just a few yogurt chips and no nuts didn't appeal to them, especially for Chris who insisted that nuts were the ones that made trail mixes essentially enjoyable. It also didn't help that it was personally thrown in together by Dale's mom to make sure he could still have a practical snack that he could enjoy on his own, all the while steering clear from anything that could potentially trigger his allergies.

The instructor continued with his last minute announcements. "Now that we have discussed about ammunition, we can move on to loading them in various artillery, starting with the standard issue pistol and rifle. Next meeting, we will find out if ammunition in certain models are already fixed in number as they are or if they can still be open for modifications."

Chris leaned to Jim and whispered. "Spoiler alert: they're fixed but you can like personalize one of your own or just get special issue cartridges that could hold more than the usual amount of ammunition. I know because I've experienced making so many mods on them in Quark II," he informed with a chuckle.

Just when the professor no longer had anything else to remind to the class, the school bell went off right on time. "That will be all for today, class. Have a good weekend," he bid before closing the reference book on his desk.

The students then began packing up their things and leaving the lecture hall one by one. As Jim and his roommates were prepping up, the lad saw Kate from the front row, on her way out of the room as well. He called out Morph who was hiding in his pocket and told him to go ahead with the rest of the guys since he still had to talk things out with his writing partner. With that, his three roommates and the pink shape shifter left the room while Jim stayed behind and waited for the red-haired girl by the doorway.

"Hey," he spoke when she finally approached him. "I waited for you outside after bio but you kinda left in a hurry."

Kate sighed, quite tired and worn-out from the day's activities. "Yes, there was an emergency council meeting before lunchtime and I was called to attend to it immediately. I do apologize."

"Oh, right. You're part of the student government," he recalled with a snap of his fingers. He then pulled out the piece of paper sticking out in between the pages of his notebook. "No worries any way. If it'll make you feel any better, here's the progress report I was supposed to give you earlier."

She took the page he handed out to her and neatly placed it inside her notes. "Thanks. I'll be giving you my work tomorrow after Saturday morning drills. I still have to go through yours later on my free time just to be sure. I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience but a lot had been popping up in my schedule lately."

"Too early in the term to get so worked up, isn't it?"

"It happens all the time at the first week of classes, especially with memos from school organizations and clubs since they'll be recruiting new members starting about a week from now."

He hummed in thought that he completely forgot that those things actually existed, especially in an exclusive academy like the one he was attending in. Not that they mattered to him nor interested him one bit but perhaps if there was a club that suited his taste like solar surfing or something else similar to that, then he would have been more than happy to become a part of it. Unfortunately, a school club like that didn't exist at the time. Solar surfing wasn't allowed in the school grounds after all.

"That's okay, pretty understandable," he simply replied, partly from his thoughts, but also because there was nothing he could do to help her out with it, unlike with their writing exercises.

"Well, I still have to go to my next class," she said before walking away from him. "Good luck on the morning drills tomorrow."

"Right back at you," he bid the same as he still had three subjects left for the remainder of his schedule, waving to her before splitting ways. "I'll see you around."

* * *

The last class for the day was astronomy, which was held daily at the school's observatory where Prof. Andrew Michaelis and his co-department's offices were housed. The students sat on the tiled and polished floor, listening and writing on their notepads as the tall and suave-looking man discussed his lectures from a projector screen, while also demonstrating and pointing to a 3D hologram of a map, both made from the same technology as the locket that Jim's mother owned.

The brown-haired teen noted that it had some similarities to the holographic map of Treasure Planet. The one they were using right now, however, wasn't exactly as cutting edge technology like the one he accidentally activated while he was just fiddling around with it. There was something unique about the way that map had been engineered, like it was made from some sort of technology that was millions of light-years away from anyone's grasp.

"And here we have the magnificent star cluster Argo Navis," the professor presented, pressing on a button to zoom in to the constellation on the map. "Named after a ship and separated into three parts: Puppis the poop deck, Carina the keel, and Vela the sails. Of the three parts, it's the keel that serves the most important role. Do you know why?"

The students sat there in silence, with some shaking their heads from an absence of any sort of response to the teacher's question.

"When a spacer or a ship captain sets sail in the deep Etherium, what will they do to make sure they're on the right track?"

He called on a student who was raising her hand. "They check their compass," she said.

"Very good. What else?"

"They consult their maps," answered another one.

He nodded thoughtfully at their smart replies. "Yes, they do. But what if their compasses are out of whack? What if their maps are washed up or torn to pieces? What do they do now?"

Once more, silence filled the room and the instructor proceeded to answer the query with the rest of his lecture.

"If you'll look closely, class. You can see that there are three bright stars located in Carina." He pressed on a button to his projector screen to reveal the constellation as well as the three stars with their names labelled on them. "These three are just a small part of the many stars that can help spacemen steer their vessels in the right direction. When you see these three at the helm in this particular order, you have spotted Carina and it means you're heading your ship down south. So much for relying on a broken compass, right?"

Small and short chuckles of the students filled the room from his jest before he could proceed. "Even with the help from their compass, their maps or their looking glass, good spacemen and wise captains refer to the stars in order to reach their destinations. This shows just one of the important roles these ethereal bodies play in the entire universe."

Soon, the last ring of the school bell went off and the instructor dismissed the class for the weekend. Jim looked away from the retreating students and turned to an open window where a view of the seven o'clock night sky was. He panned his eyes to the left where the observatory's main telescope and its supplementary apparatus were placed.

"Hey, Jim! You coming?" asked his Cervid roommate, with their other two pals waiting for them.

Jim then turned his attention to him and replied. "You guys should probably go ahead. I'll catch up with you later."

"Oh?" He then looked around through the mess of students before his eyes could land on Jim once more. "I'm pretty sure Kate the Blake had already left since I couldn't see her anywhere."

He briskly shook an open hand in front of him to correct his mistaken roommate. "No, it's not Kate."

Leaving his business to himself, Rainier finally conceded to Jim's plea. "Okay, if you say so. See you later at the cafeteria?"

"Right. See ya."

The brown-haired teenager waved to his pals before walking away from them, and went to where the large telescope was, with its large lens from the other side and the rest of its metal chassis practically sticking out of the observatory's dome-shaped roof. It reminded Jim of the similar telescope that Delbert owned in his mansion back in Montressor, with the one in front of him just slightly larger in size. Jim could tell right away that this was a professional machinery, likewise used only by professional astronomers.

"A beauty, isn't it?" spoke the astronomy professor from behind him.

Jim whipped around to the approaching man who appeared to be just about the same age as Prof. Everly, perhaps around their mid-twenties. "Yeah. This isn't the first that I got to see something like it but I'll admit, I've never been this up-close to one."

Prof. Michaelis approached the contraption and helped himself to adjust a couple of its dials. He then leaned in to look into it. "Let's see, it looks like there's a meteoroid shower about three parsecs away from here." He stepped back from the looking glass and offered the teenager a looksee. "Best not to sail around those parts or it will do a number on the ship."

Jim peeked into the lens and saw the activity for himself, dozens of medium-sized rocks falling to a certain direction from a part of the Etherium. "No kidding."

"Perhaps I could get your surname, lad?" he asked as he walked to his desk before picking up a stack of papers.

"Hawkins, sir," he mindlessly said out of impulse. His older companion then began leafing through the stack in search of his sheet upon his reply.

"James, is it?" he clarified, pulling out one written exercise from the stack. He hummed as he skimmed through the boy's work and spoke. "You did a fine job on this week's map exercise, but I do have some remarks."

"What is it, sir?" he asked, walking to where the professor was to get a closer look at the notes made on his paper, and rested his notepad and tape recorder on the teacher's desk.

"You drew the rest of Atlesia very well but there's one detail you missed. You forgot the northeast star which should be right at this spot here." He pointed a red marker on an area near the star cluster and drew a small circle right where the correction was. "Perhaps you've lost count since Atlesia has seven primary stars that you shouldn't mess around with," he chuckled.

Jim sheepishly scratched the back of his head and let out a small embarrassed laugh. "I must've miscounted."

"Well, I must say I'm quite surprised that you did. After all, seven stars should ring a loud bell to you," he jested then paused before clearly reading out loud the teenager's full name on his paper. "James _Pleiades_ Hawkins."

The teenager scrunched his eyebrows at the emphasized sound of his middle name, but couldn't help but give the professor some credit since this person actually knew all about the star cluster he was named after. But that didn't stop the uneasiness he usually got when anyone spoke of it, especially if that someone was his mother.

"What a coincidence," quite diffident, he simply said.

"It may not be that important to you for now but once you've become a full-time spacer, seeing these seven stars above your helm means you're heading northeast, and that's not a good sign. It means you're approaching around either St. Lucius' or St. Anglicus' Pass, and you're probably aware that those two are both dangerous territories."

"I've heard about them once or twice," Jim confirmed with a nod, recalling stories about the two planets from an old pirate he knew.

The man then glanced on the paper he held once more and comforted. "But I will say that your work is well above average, lad. I'm actually stumped that you could sketch this well for someone your age."

Appreciative of his praise, the teenager's mouth pulled into a half-smile. "Thanks, sir. Though Prof. Everly's pretty good with it, too... for a lit teacher."

"Ah, yes," agreed the professor. "Marian actually has a bachelor's degree in cartography which explains for her well-honed skill."

"She... does?" he asked upon the baffling realization.

Prof. Michaelis chuckled. "I'd be lying if I said she's no better than me in the field. I know because we were classmates back in university."

The teenager recalled the literature instructor's statement from the other day and how he couldn't quite settle with her explanation. "I asked her one time why she would teach literature instead of cartography, like what you're doing right now. All she said to me was that she just really loves literature."

"That was what she told me, too." He turned to Jim with a smile, in a way somber compared to the one he had during his lectures. With his statement, the brown-haired lad then realized that perhaps Prof. Michaelis was the colleague the literature professor referred to then. "She went further to tell me that 'literature is life' or something like that, and it's what she'd been yearning for all the time. Well, if that's how she wants to live her life, then who am I to contradict her?"

"Yeah" was all that Jim could say, his mind still fuzzed by the logic behind Prof. Everly's reason despite the astronomy professor's account on her tale.

"She knows how to get things going for her any way, and how she shines from all that. Now all of the stars can't even compare to her." He paused when he realized that he was already mumbling nonsense which his student could no longer comprehend and switched their discussion to another topic. "So, do you have an idea of what you want to be once you've graduated?"

"Nope. Still no ideas, sir," admitted the teenager. "I was just thinking of doing what I can while I'm here and see how far I'll go from there."

"And how are you doing lately?"

"A little rusty in some parts but I'm still trying to fix that."

Prof. Michaelis quoted. "A ship without a compass, a voyage without a map."

"Something like that," the boy admitted once more.

"That's what I've been trying to teach to you kids earlier, right?" he reminded. "When you're trying to find your way, what do you do? You look to your stars."

"Yeah? Which star should I look up to then?" out of sarcasm, Jim asked with his arms crossed.

The professor looked up to the dome-shaped roof and smiled, giving out a small piece of advice to his young student. "You gotta have hopes for yourself. Hope is but a star, James. As long as it's alive, it will burn and as long as it's burning, it will light up the Etherium. Look up to that and you'll know your way."

"That's actually... pretty deep," the teenager commented, slightly stunned by his quick-witted metaphor but still clearly saw through the essence of his advice. "Where'd you get that? From Prof. Everly?"

Prof. Michaelis flashed him his somber smile once more but this time, Jim noticed the slight glint in his eyes. "Maybe. But I haven't lost hope in her, that's for sure."


	8. Saturday Drills

**VII. Saturday Drills**

* * *

"Welcome to military training, cadets," bellowed the drill sergeant Heracles Boyd to the rows of students lined up before him, hardening themselves up on their feet to avoid any condescending remarks from him and his all-seeing eye. The officer looked the same as when the students saw him in attendance during the academy's opening ceremony: dark skin, clean cut matted hair, and firm biceps that looked like they would pop the sleeves of his military uniform anytime soon.

He spoke at the top of his lungs and paced back and forth in front of them, with arms pursed to his back. "Unfortunately for you, this course is sophomore year compulsory, will last the entire term and there are no exceptions. Boo. Hoo. Hoo."

The teenagers held the urge to react to his announcement since doing so would earn the strict officer's chastising, once he did notice any trifling acts from them.

"Your dearest dean is expecting that you will graduate from this place in about three years' time and when that happens, some of you will go marching up straight to the Royal Navy Academy upon her recommendations. That's where the real business begins, so it's my responsibility to prepare your guts before you even get there. Understood?"

The students unevenly said. "Yes, sir."

Displeased with their response, he hollered. "I repeat, do I make myself clear?!"

"Yes, sir!" more lively, they replied.

"Very good. But I _will_ tell you right away my one policy inside _and_ outside this course. Every cadet's misconduct, every juvenile tendencies made will be swiftly apprehended and will earn demerits on the individual's grade in this course, so I'm expecting that every single one of you, right in front of me now, will comply with my standards," warned the drill sergeant. "Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Now, let's get started." He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his chest pocket and scanned through what was written in it. "Is there anyone else here aside from Wess who has an... 'exercise-induced bronchostrict...' 'broncon...' 'br...' H-How do you even read this?!"

Dale peeped from the third row to correct him. "Exercise-induced bronchoconstriction, sir."

"Right, whatever he said!" shrugged Sgt. Boyd, folding and placing the paper back in his pocket. "If any of you have urgent medical conditions that should be brought up to me before I permit you to participate in this course's activities, now is the best time for you to do so. You need to secure a medical report from the infirmary soon, like Wess did, then bring it to me next week."

He brought out the clipboard he clutched behind him all that time and held it between him and the cadets. "Sign up here so I'll know who you are."

The blond-haired pangolin teenager left his post and immediately stepped up to the drill sergeant, taking out the pen from the clipboard's clamp then wrote down his name on the sheet of paper fastened to it. Three other cadets followed him soon, one of which was a tall Equine with a bulk of dental braces on his mouth and another was a wide-eyed ruffle feathered lad with a pair of oversized round spectacles on his face. The third student, an otter-like girl with cropped brown hair, looked fit and healthy enough to have any apparent medical concerns on her, but still went ahead and wrote her name on the list. Once they were done with the task, Sgt. Boyd ordered them to stay put so they were separated from their colleagues as he finalized their authorization.

He then went on to speak to the isolated teens. "Alright. Next week, I'm expecting three more medical reports to be submitted from you lot. Otherwise, failure to do so will render your name in this list invalid. Copy?"

"Yes, sir," answered the enlisted four, Dale included.

"Now due to your circumstances, you four will just run one and a half laps around the training oval for the warm-up instead of three."

_'Yes,'_ the blond silently mouthed with a low pump of his fist.

"The rest of the class will do the normal three laps. Now get going!" he ordered with a blow on the brass whistle that dangled around his neck, much to the exasperation of his subordinates.

With that, the students dashed off running around the tracks of the training ground in a counterclockwise direction. Jim huffed as he jogged among his colleagues, looking around the scenery to distract himself from the mundane activity, and glad enough that it was just past six in the morning. Had the morning drills been conducted any later than eleven o'clock and he would have collapsed on the ground then and there from the direct heat of the sun.

It also helped that their drill uniforms were simply their comfortable yet practical daily attire, sans the jackets since wearing them would make it hard for the trainees to get around. Instead, the cadets just had their yellow-lined white shirts for their top, a name tag pinned to their left chest with their surnames and initials inscribed on it so their superior officers could call on them. Apart from that, it's the same old cream pants and brown boots for them.

Jim then chanced upon two more batches of sophomore students training on another part of the oval. From the far end of the grounds was the corps base, which housed upperclassmen that had decided to become a permanent part of the military unit. He was personally informed that Amelia mostly picked out promising cadets from that faction, whose commendable dispositions earned them a place in the roster to sign up for the Royal Navy Academy, the prized training house of the Terran Empire armada and the same institution which the well-respected dean had graduated from, with honors no doubt.

For a moment, Jim decided that he should think things through before even jumping in to a faction like that, realizing that he would eventually be putting everything on the line for a duty that expected so much from him. Just imagining it made him restless, but the thought that he might end up a captain like Amelia (or rank as an admiral, like what she was gunning for at the moment) made a nice ring to his ears.

Once they had finished all three (or in the other case, one and a half) laps of warm-up, the students were then put through the essential and dreaded obstacle course, with ropes, tires and wires that they could all jump across, climb on or crawl through. They struggled through the whole thing each on their own with some considerations to the four who were quite under the weather, such as Jim volunteering to watch over Dale as he made his way out of the entire ordeal. They were lucky enough for the dry and sunny weather since had there been any rain at the time, the sticky mud on the dampened training grounds would have done a number on their uniforms, and also on their novice of a performance.

For the last part of the day's drills, the sergeant had gathered up his subordinates at the shooting range. What appeared to be a net launcher was placed on a long table in front of them aside from about seven others separately placed on each firing booth, along with baskets of net capsules readied for replenishing their ammunition.

"Today, we will be having a small shooting practice," he announced to his students. "I'll be teaching you on the proper handling of various Navy-standard weaponry from here on. I won't be delving deep into the composition or mechanism of every one of them, so you all better pay good attention in your artillery class for that."

He then took the firearm on the table and held it up in the air. "Meet your new friend, the net launcher. A little practical quiz: what would you do if you're a Navy officer and you've encountered a nearby assailant?"

The red-haired Kate promptly raised her hand and answered. "Apprehend them without hesitation, sir."

"Very good! But what if they're running away from you with some important stolen goods in their possession? Are you just gonna pounce on them like that? No, I don't think so! Which is why the appropriate action to this situation is to fire a net to them." He held the gun by the nozzle and pointed it to the teenaged girl. "Care to demonstrate, Blake?"

Without a word, Kate stepped up from her row and took the launcher from the officer's grip, preparing the defense weapon's action. She stationed herself at the immediate shooting booth and stomped on a mechanical pedal, hoisting up a training dummy which she aimed at in an instant. With one firm pull of the trigger, she made a clean shot and a captor's net flew right across to her target. Pleased with the result, she stepped back from the station, her foot had left the pedal and the training dummy was pulled away to be cleaned up after. She handed the launcher back to the sergeant before returning to her post.

"Excellent work," he praised and went on with his last few instructions. "For today, you will be immersed in the beginner's stationary targeting. Each of you will take turns on seven net launchers at each shooting station as you can see. I'm expecting about eight to nine students in a line taking turns in each booth and repeating what Blake just did in her demonstration. When you had your turn, you will go to the back of your queue and do the same action two more times. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir!"

He then blew on his whistle again and ordered the students to take their places at the range. Shortly, nets were flying throughout the target area. Some shaky hands would repeatedly miss the shots on their targets, earning them some criticism from their commanding officer. Others were picking up ammunition from the baskets provided for them before performing the required task.

As Jim waited for his turn, he looked around and saw from another queue that it was now Chris who was stationed at the booth, smoothly nailing the training dummy as expected from him.

"Steady hands you got there, Levey. Well done!" Sgt. Boyd called out on his way to the back of his line.

Seeing the Loppytonian's satisfied grin upon the man's remark, Jim smirked as he internally applauded for his roommate's job well done. The curve on his face left, however, when he heard the drill officer's strident voice again as he approached another student and scolded them.

"Pull the trigger already, Morstadt!"

The brown-haired teenager turned to where the clamor came from and saw a familiar girl with him, who still had a focused stare to her target despite the tense attention she got from the officer right behind her. She hesitated for a good couple of seconds before pulling on the trigger, then shot a net that went all over a training dummy as well.

Sgt. Boyd huffed in disapproval and grumbled. "Good execution, but hesitating to fire a net at a cretin? If that had been a real person, they would've gotten away!"

He shook his head but soon turned away and left her to get at another student. Jim observed her still, walking to the back of her queue with the same pair of green eyes and short black pigtails, a calm but blank expression all over her face.

With one step forward, he then took his turn at the shooting booth, loaded a net capsule in his launcher and charged it up. He recalled what Kate did earlier and stomped his foot on the pedal. When the training dummy had sprung up before him, he pulled on the trigger and cleanly shot a net to it.

He placed the launcher down for the next person in line and while on his way to the back, Sgt. Boyd spoke to him, his arms crossed but with a satisfied look on his face. "Excellent shot, Hawkins. Keep that up."

Unsure of what to say in return, Jim simply nodded to the drill sergeant as his thanks, then faced to the direction of the shooting range once more as he waited for his next two tries at the task.

* * *

Volunteering to return the net launchers after shooting practice, the four boys each carried two of them to the artillery shed. Entering the room, the sight of various weaponry and ammunition all neatly lined up welcomed the teenagers as they made their way to the launchers' storage crate. Chris marveled at the view, spinning around on his feet to catch a glance at each and every piece of the artillery. Morph then flew right out of Jim's pocket, seeing that the coast was clear from the strict military officer.

"There we go," heaved Rainier while he unloaded his cargo then dusted off his hands.

"Whoa, guys," Chris gasped in admiration. "Check out those standard-issue laser rifles, the ones with the rotatable cartridges. The guys here sure did an awesome job in cleaning and polishing those barrels!" His eyes moved from one firearm to another, all the while sharing what he knew about them. "Oh, and that one's a plasma bazooka! Only alpha units were allowed to use those in real-time skirmishes because of their very limited supply..."

While his other two roommates listened intently to his fanatical gun talk, Rainier was a bit skeptical of his know-it-all and asked. "What is it with you and guns?"

Before Chris could even answer, Dale had already deducted. "Probably because of all the shooter games that he's been playing."

Jim agreed to his statement with a nod. "And it makes sense that when you've played enough of those in your lifetime, I don't think you'd be any different from a guy who just got out of military camp."

"I don't know, man," sighed Chris almost apologetically. "I'm just so down to learning all about their mechanism, like how laser bullets are already charged from the stock but will only zap once they're released from the action. The whole process, it's just the bee's knees to me."

"Seems like you already found your true calling."

"He sure did, like a kid in a candy store," Rainier compared fittingly to the Loppytonian, whose eyes were still glimmering at the sight.

In amusement, Jim took out one net launcher from the crate with a snicker. "But I bet none of those wusses you told us about will ever compare to this thing's fire power," he kidded.

"Hey! Do one with old man Boyd!" the antlered teen requested and shortly, the lad was doing some quirky imitations of the said authority figure with the defense weapon, earning a hearty round of laughter from his roommates.

"I'll shoot those three laps out of you!" Jim bellowed with a poor impersonation of the man's loud and grating voice. The pink blob caught on soon enough and transformed into small goofy caricatures of the officer.

"Alright, boys!" the drill sergeant suddenly called out as he entered the room. "Time to vamoose your way out of—"

Caught off guard, the four teenagers' merriment was cut short and they quickly turned to his direction. Thinking of a way to get rid of the launcher he was toying with, the distracted young man was about to place it back in its crate when he accidentally pulled on the trigger, unaware that it was loaded. A net shot out from it, hurling itself all over and smothering the likewise flabbergasted superior officer.

"W-What in blue blazes are you doing, Hawkins?!" he cried as he strove to pull away the net that enveloped him.

A frightened Morph screeched and immediately flew right into Jim's pocket. Slack-jawed and eyes wide open, the brown-haired culprit froze on his feet and began thinking up of an excuse for his mishap, his blue eyes going back and forth between Rainier and the riled-up officer in a net. "Uh..."

* * *

In front of the barracks, Kate stood outside and cooled herself off with some fresh air and dabbed the sweat off of her neck with a towel. From a distance, she saw and then narrowed her eyes when she couldn't believe what appeared to be her writing partner doing laps around the oval with his Cervid roommate, in such a time when the sun was already beating down on them.

A girl with fennec-like features passed her by and saw the red-head observing something from afar. Her large ears then perked up when she caught sight of the two cadets on the training grounds. Interested in what Kate was so preoccupied with, she approached her and watched the view for herself, nothing but a pair teenaged boys jogging and huffing about in sweat-soaked clothes.

"You did well today," she complimented to the admiral's daughter. "But I don't think there's any point in me saying that because you always do anyway."

Kate shook her head of the unwanted remark and replied. "Thank you, Ivy."

Her eyes wandered to the brown-haired human and pointed him out. "Quite a troublemaker he is, huh? Too bad, he's kinda good-looking."

"Doesn't matter," the red-head scoffed. "If he keeps up with that disorderly behavior, like the one they're expectedly doing those extra laps for, there's a high-chance that he could get suspended, not only from military drills but from the academy as a whole."

Ivy clicked her tongue in disappointment. "Bitter, are we?"

"Not at all," denied Kate, her composure still unmoved by anything they had been talking about as seen from the blank expression on her face. "But it pains me to know that I'm being pitted with him."

"Right, I forgot. You don't like bad boys," she cooed with a tease.

She breathed deeply through her nose and recalled that she still had to hand over her part of their writing project to him before lunchtime. It then occurred to her what she had read from the progress report he gave her the other day. It was somehow intelligible, an unexpectedly decent output coming from someone like him, she critiqued. "And the worst part is that he actually _has_ academic potential, of some sort."

Her companion lit up at her remark. "Oh, finally. Some competition for... first rank perhaps?" she supposed with a menacing smirk. She glanced to Kate's face which still had that unreadable expression, but now sensed that she had somehow tensed up from hearing what she said, telling from the look of irritation in her eyes.

"Good luck with that, Kate," she simply bid in a lighter tone then gave her a pat on the shoulder before stepping back and retreating to their quarters.

The girl brought a hand to her face and stifled a perturbed groan from the thought of who she was partnered with: a maverick, a mischief-maker and a brain, all in one person. Even she wouldn't know how to handle all that since this would be the first for her to deal with such a combination of a person. With a last glance to the young scamp, Kate turned away from him and followed suit to her colleague back in the barracks.


	9. Strike One (Part One)

**VIII. Strike One (Part One)**

* * *

The academy's docking bay was wide and spacious, an excellent stretch for ship deployments and sailing demonstrations. That afternoon at its first berth was a class section of the sophomore-year ship engineering course, with a long-haired professor about to guide them through the week's class exercise.

At the area were about two dozen engines and metal boards set beforehand in rows like individual workstations on the ground. The students carried to the demonstration field the parcels of tools, hardware and supplementary materials that they were required to bring for the scheduled course activity, prepared about a week ago and taken out from stock in the supply room. Each one of them took their own individual stations and situated their crates beside their designated places.

"As I announced last meeting, you will be designing and engineering your own rocket-powered air gliders today, using the basic principles of engine mechanics and hydraulics that we have discussed these past three weeks," began Prof. Guillaume Pulver, some strands of his ponytailed tresses being wafted by a gust of wind. "Hopefully, you've all the materials you need with you, as directed from the requirements list that I provided, since you have complete authorship and responsibility on your exercises anyway."

With an eyebrow raised and his eyes scanning the equipment on the ground, Jim thought out loud when he got some familiar vibes on the machinery that they would be working on. "So, it's a solar surfer."

Hearing his assumption, the professor confirmed with an unsure smile. "Well, yes. If that's how you would call it."

"But sir," Dale cut in. "Aren't solar surfers _not_ allowed in the campus grounds?"

"They're allowed in a way, albeit for educational purposes exclusively. The _act_ _of_ air gliding absolutely isn't," he confirmed again, his mouth curving into a confident grin. "But I will inform you right now that it's a completely different case if it's done under the permission of authorized personnel like me. So as long as I green lit any activity like that, you'll be considered exempted from that rule."

The students thoughtfully nodded their heads in comprehension and took note of that important reminder. The instructor then resumed with his instructions. "As I was saying, you'll be building yourselves some air gliders, or solar surfers rather, applying the concepts we have discussed during my lecture. You have the rest of the class period to do that, all one and a half hours of it. That will be plenty of time for the activity, which means I won't be accepting late submissions."

He briefly turned to his crate and took out a small mechanical device from it, then held it in front for the class to see. "Now, I have here with me a tachometer. What it does is measure the number of cycles your engine's motor can make, directly indicating the speed of your craft. To get a satisfactory grade in today's activity, your surfer's speed should measure above the prescribed minimum limit. 'What is the minimum,' you ask? I'm not going to say since I've already mentioned that during my lecture. That would give me the chance to know who among you weren't paying close attention."

He let out that last bit with a chuckle and informed in a still lighthearted tone. "But I will give you some advice on that. Should your solar surfers not reach the minimum speed, you might need to look into either your cables or your solar sails to check if they are indeed properly fastened to your craft, _especially_ _your solar sails_. Most of my students had trouble finishing this exercise because their sails weren't correctly attached to their engines. The result: the motor won't perform past the minimum because it couldn't get enough power from the sails. When the engine can't go past the minimum limit, your thrusters won't fire up as good and your solar surfer won't be able take flight smoothly."

Jim nodded his head in agreement, having experienced plenty of said mechanical aberrances in his (almost) entire lifetime. His years of experience in building solar surfers was enough for him to be a complete know-it-all in the field, even close enough to be considered a prodigy at it. After all, he built his first solar surfer when _he was only eight_.

He was still appreciative of the instructor's pointers though, as he was aware that most of the class wasn't in the same level of expertise as his. The reminders also gave him the chance to trace and mentally map out his plan of action before getting right into the grind. There was only a small leeway for committing mistakes in his work since his supplies could only give him about a couple chances at repairs. On top of that, he was given a very limited time to do everything. If he wanted to get the exercise done in the most proficient way possible, he had to be agile in every step he would make and ditch the consideration of having to do patch-ups.

Jim breathed deeply, preparing himself for his one joy in life and took out a small piece of equipment from his crate, hoping that it would give him all the luck he would need. A crystal capacitor, similar to the one he mounted on his own solar surfer back at home, the one which nearly gave him his one-way ticket to juvenile hall. He chuckled to himself that perhaps this one capacitor just might cause him as much trouble as before. In disbelief, he shook his head of the thought and slid it into his empty pocket, the one which Morph wasn't already settled in.

Having gone through all his reminders, the professor then commenced the day's class activity. "Alright, you have less than one and a half hours to finish up. Just raise your hand if you have any questions or if you're already finished with the exercise. I'll only be checking and grading your work within class hours because as I said, I will not be accepting late exercises. You may now begin."

With that, the students took their post and began working on their individual stations. Situated on a row with his roommates, Jim felt a poke on his shoulder and tilted his head to the black-haired teenager.

"Hey, Jim," Rainier spoke, trying to keep his voice low. "What's the bare minimum again?"

The pangolin boy let out a heavy sigh. "Who would've thought that you're not paying attention? He just mentioned that in class a couple of days ago."

"I wasn't born a couple of days ago, Dale," hissed Rainier.

"Sixty-five, Rainier. Sixty-five kilometers per hour," Jim replied easily, already unloading his equipment on the ground.

"Sixty-five, gotcha," the Cervid affirmed with a wink, turning to his own crate and hummed as he took out his own cables.

All that time, Jim kept the conversations with his roommates brief so he could focus entirely on his work, but not saying that he didn't pay any attention to them. One of the boys would occasionally borrow tools from the other or ask for any extra gears or cables which they would openly proffer to any one of them who needed it.

Passing the thirty-minute mark, Dale was just about done coupling his cables when he paused from the task and searched around for some pliers, one that could cut the wires he would hold with another pair. "Uh, you guys have an extra pair of clippers?"

Chris looked up to him. "Nope, but I'll lend you mine when I'm done with this bit on the solar sail compartment."

"Sure, I can wait."

While he did, the blond decided to pass the time by glancing over his roommate's progress, first to Rainier who was strategically cutting and attaching his cables on his surfer's engine, then to Jim who was about to rig his solar sail in.

Noticing him just sitting there, the brown-haired human spoke. "Already done?"

"No, just waiting for Chris so I can borrow his pliers."

Jim set down his folded up sail on his board and offered with a grin. "I don't have an extra, but I do have the next best thing."

As if on cue, Morph immediately flew out of Jim's pocket and right into Dale's hand, turning into the pair of clippers he needed. Without a word, a pair of eyes popped up on it and winked at him before disappearing once more.

"Why thanks, Morph." With the little shape shifter in hand, the lad gleamed. "And Jim."

"No problem, bud," he waved then turned back to his craft.

Dale noted of his roommate before he could resume with his work. "But I can see that you're almost done, Jim, since you're about to hoist up your solar sail."

"Yeah, just gonna wire it up with my capacitor and engine, install it on the board and we're all set."

About less than twenty minutes in and still with plenty of time to spare, Jim wiped his brow with the back of his hand and pressed on the surfer's pedal so his sail could spring out, be activated and begin charging up the engine. When the power meters had all filled up, he dusted off his hands and let out a fervent smile.

"That should do it," he said, standing up straight and raising a hand to catch the professor's attention, being the first in his class to do so.

Shortly, Prof. Pulver approached him and noticed that he was already done with his exercise. He then set a hand holding pen to his record sheet, ready to grade the student's output. "Surname, lad?"

"Hawkins."

He went through the names on his class list and pointed his pen on a blank cell next to the boy's name. His eyes scanned the solar surfer's architecture and graded it on his sheet. "Excellent job on the framework. I can tell that you've been on these things before because this is exactly what professional surfers do with their riggings."

"Thanks, sir."

The man then pulled out his handheld tachometer from his messenger bag, knelt near the board and clipped a couple of wires to the engine's sockets. "Alright, let's see how this goes."

Upon the instructor's word, Jim flipped the surfer's power switch on, his solar sail glowing and continuously drinking up solar energy. Whirring sounds later emanated from the engine and with a press of a button, the gears shifted and the rockets at the back had lit up, slightly shaking the board on the ground. Glancing at the tachometer's reading, Jim's surfer was measured to have the capacity to travel at seventy-one kilometers per hour, even without any help yet from his capacitor.

The professor hummed in approval. "Slightly more than average but the faster it goes, the better. Am I right?"

"Definitely," Jim replied knowingly with a nod.

"I'm not sure about that though," he suggested as he patted the capacitor's metal frame with the dull end of his pencil, the small crystals in it glistening from sun. "Crystal capacitor, notable for its additional function as an energy amplifier hence improving the engine's performance even from the same amount of power input. Remarkable capacitor choice, but I usually don't condone bringing unstandardized equipment in class even if it still qualifies as something essential."

"Sorry, sir," said Jim, shutting down the surfer, and immediately began explaining himself. "I figured throwing in a crystal capacitor, or any working capacitor in general, would be fine since you said we have 'complete authorship and responsibility' on our exercises anyway."

Prof. Pulver grinned at the student's clever answer, even direct quoting one of his important house rules, picked up his measuring device and stood up. "Yes, I did mention that. Nevertheless, good work on today's exercise, and a spot-on job at that. You definitely coupled your cables and handled your machinery like a pro."

Hearing his affirmative remark, the lad beamed. "Thank you, sir."

"There," he finalized with a last few scribbles on his sheet. "Your work's been graded and you're good to go, Mr. Hawkins. Kindly tidy up your workstation before leaving."

"Sure thing," he complied before the professor could walk away from him, starting off the task by reeling in what was left of his cables.

Noticing him packing up, Chris asked and pointed to his hands. "Jim, are you still gonna use those?"

He shook his head as he finished up the coiling. "Nope, but you can have them if you want."

"Really?"

"Sure," he guaranteed, tossing them for the Loppytonian to catch. "Won't be needing them anymore so go knock yourself out."

The cords landed on Chris's hands and he saluted. "Sweet! I could use them for installing my capacitor."

"You're gonna need four, man," Jim suggested, picking up the rest of his things and stowing them in his crate. "One to connect to each power meter and one for the solar sail."

"Good call. Thanks," nodded Chris at his info, neatly unraveling the cables once more.

While he did the task, Jim couldn't help but hear an exchange between Prof. Pulver and another student who called him over to have his work checked. Reaching for his wrench, Jim just shook his head and resumed what he was doing.

"Good output as expected from you, Mr. Escamillo," the instructor commented, scribbling the student's grade on his clipboard.

"Of course, sir," he replied, brimming with confidence. "You won't be expecting anything less from me."

"And how's the petitioned club working for you?" he brought up.

"Still on the idea board, but I'm pretty sure I could get it running for business by the next term if only I could find more, er, 'constituents'."

"That's good, but you better get right on it fast. We've plenty of new talents enrolled this term that you might consider taking in."

"Do we, sir?"

"Absolutely. If I'm correct, Mr. Hawkins here did quite a performance on today's exercise," he said with a grin and pointing to the brown-haired teenager stationed right in front of them.

The platypus-like student chuckled at the little human in disbelief. "Did he now?"

"His surfer scored about... seventy kilometers per hour, if that's not enough to convince you," he suggested with a peek on his clipboard.

"Seventy?" the stunned student asked, thinking of how someone like him could get a number that high.

"Seventy-one, to be precise."

"... That's about three units faster than mine," he mused then shrugged out of apparent envy. "No big deal. I bet I could still do better than him in a race."

"Well, that'd be somewhat interesting to see. Nevertheless, good work on today's exercise," the professor finalized as he tucked his pencil behind his ear. "And do try to talk things out with Mr. Hawkins. He might have a lot of potential for helping you out with the club."

"I'll... see what I can, sir," he assured the professor although unwilling, not accepting the fact that a transfer student could just outperform him like that. But the thought didn't weigh as much as his need to establish the solar surfing club he'd been wanting to have since he started freshman year in the academy.

He wasn't alone with it though. Prof. Pulver positively supported the idea since he was a solar surfer enthusiast himself. Not to mention that the professor recommended the human to him first-hand, speaking of him like he would be a valuable asset to his petitioned club. So he just went with it, not seeing the harm in recruiting him. He thought that if there would be anything bruised from what he was about to do should things not go his way, it would be his own ego.

"Mine got sixty-eight KMPH," the student called to the brown-haired teenager who had just finished tidying up.

Jim glanced to him with a dusting of his hand and simply replied. "Good for you."

"Sixty-eight's a smooth ride, but seventy-five's just out of this world. Think you could make it go faster than that?"

"I don't know," the lad shrugged. "It's doable but it might do some overkill on the capacitor."

"Would it?"

"I'll show you," he offered and walked to the platypus kid, kneeling beside his surfer to explain as he pointed on its parts. "Look, your engine's gonna need more energy for seventy-five KMPH to happen. What that's gonna do is get some more from your solar sails through your capacitor. Large units of solar energy can actually burn out some capacitor cells if used continuously for a long time. In this case, I'd recommend a more flexible capacitor for that."

"You make it sound like you've already been there before," the student commented, with Jim's know-how sparking his envy once more.

"Oh, yeah," he laughed. "I've been there a lot, being the idiot that I am."

"I wouldn't say 'idiot', but probably unknowledgeable on many things."

"You could say that again."

"Like for example, you probably have no idea who I am. Don't you?"

Jim stood up straight and took a good look at the platypus-like lad. He didn't ring a bell so far, aside from an account from Dr. Doppler about one of his colleagues. If there was an advice from Delbert that got stuck in his head about the matter, it was not to mess with three types of people: pirates, the Procyons, and platypus folk. With the venomous spurs and all, Jim took it as a sensible warning sign.

"Yeah. No, I really don't," he flat-out confessed.

The teenager crossed his arms. "You should, but I'm really not in the mood to make a proper introduction."

"Psst, Jim," Rainier spoke from behind the brown-haired lad, never bothering to get up from his work. "He's Ferdinand, Senator Escamillo's son."

"And thanks for informing him for me, antler head," acknowledged the senator's son before getting back at the human. "So, Prof. Pulver mentioned to me that your surfer went above seventy. Do you think it will do as good as mine in a real exhibition?"

Jim saw his roommates look up to him and slightly gasp at Ferdinand announcing his surfer's capacity, and that he was challenging him for it. However, he paid it no mind and turned the lad down, aware of the kind of attention he'd get for it. "Well, that's really not for you to know, and not for me to care either. Not interested, thanks."

"You say that, but what if I told you about the organization I've been working on?"

"Organization?"

"A solar surfing club," Ferdinand tipped off. He then noticed the change of expression on the human's face, becoming engrossed with where their conversation was heading. "It's still being petitioned and I just might consider pulling you in if only you'd be a bit more compliant."

"Compliant with what, comparing my solar surfing with yours? As tempting as your offer is, I'll have to say 'no'," he refused once more.

The platypus kid shook his head in disappointment. "Shame. You're no fun, and all that potential's totally wasted on you."

_'Wasted?'_ Jim repeated in his head, now infuriated with what he just implied. "I don't think beating the best solar surfer in Montressor, in a one-on-one race, would come close to wasted potential. There's more to me than just that and I could go on for ages," he defended with a sneer, queuing in the back of his mind all his notable escapades, but cutting off the parts when the fuzz had to escort him back home. He even deliberated on mentioning the time when he rustled up a makeshift solar surfer at the last minute, which saved a ship and crew from blowing up with an entire planet.

He set that one aside, however, and thought that it should simply be his last resort. He wouldn't want the entire student body to think that he was being either a complete show off or just plain delusional. Also, he wouldn't want them to know the whole story behind that, let alone carelessly throwing away information about Treasure Planet's existence.

Ferdinand chuckled at Jim's attempt at boasting. "Coming from someone who hasn't won the Junior Solar Surfing Galactic Prix in four consecutive seasons in a row."

"Well, did you?"

He rolled his eyes and huffed. "I won't just throw that out here in the open if I didn't."

"Sorry, but I'm still not catching on," he replied still, a hand smoothing back a tuft of his hair.

"So you're from Montressor, huh?" he slowly said as if enlightened by the guy's disposition. "It figures why you got the wits since you've already seen a lot of stuff going on in that old mining heap."

"Yeah. Glad you're aware of that."

"But I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt, _Jim_. I know a lot of Montressor folk like you are pretty competent in the sport, so why don't you show me that you're worth being in the one percent?"

"Show you?" he mocked. "Do you think you can just get me to do an exhibition for you whenever you want?"

Ferdinand's mouth curved into a grin, like an infallible plan had popped up in his head. "Now that you mention it, I just might be able to do that," he resolved, whipping around and making his way to the direction where Prof. Pulver was. At that moment, Jim already got an idea of what he was about to do.

"Wait," he jumped, instantly regretting his words as he trudged right behind the platypus-like kid, wanting to take it all back. "We just met about, what, five minutes ago and now you're gonna try and convince Pulver to drag me into what I just said?"

"I don't think you'll have a problem with that. Unless you're a coward, that is," he taunted with a chuckle.

"You sound desperate, Ferd. You really do."

"I am, Jim. At least I'm not denying it like a coward like you."

"But I didn't even agree to any of this. Even if I did, why? Your reputation got a death wish or something?"

"No, but I'm betting yours don't since hey, where's your reputation in the first place?"

Ruffled up and chastened once more, Jim just groaned an irritated 'ugh' and threw his hands up in defeat. "You know what, whatever. Let's just get this over with."

Once they've reached him, Ferdinand stopped on his heels and began. "Prof. Pulver, about your suggestion earlier..."

"Mr. Escamillo," the instructor turned to acknowledge him. "And Mr. Hawkins at that."

"Yeah, it seems I still need to see a little more initiative from Jim here if ever I have to count him in to the solar surfing club."

The brown-haired teenager cut in with a curt chuckle. "He just wants to see if I can go solar surfing better than him."

"Not in that sense," he shushed and resumed with his explanation. "I just want to know if his skills are even worth considering. It'd be a waste if I took in someone who wouldn't show some spirit of competition like I do."

"And what do you suppose should be done about that?" questioned the professor.

"I would like to have your permission to go on a solar surfer race with Jim within the campus area at this very hour, if that's alright."

"And during my class hours, nonetheless," he doubted, running a finger on his chin in thought. "Might I suggest that you do it some other time?"

"_That_ was my first plan, sir. But I figured that I have a chance to introduce my club to the entire student body if I do that now, and if only I could get an approval to do it within the academe."

"And that's why you're asking for mine?" Grinning at the student's clever idea, he remarked. "A swift promotional move, but are you sure you want Mr. Hawkins to race with you?"

"Well, yeah. Is there something wrong with that?"

He took a quick glance to the brown-haired teenager and remembered the crystal capacitor installed on his solar surfer, the small piece of equipment placing the human at a great advantage from his opponent once activated. "Yes, I don't think it would be a good idea."

"You tell him, sir," Jim agreed with a nod.

"But I've got nothing to lose, sir. Even if it meant just providing a little exhibition to our fellow classmates to give them a glimpse of what the solar surfing club is about, I'll do it," Ferdinand bargained. "And since you're a fan of the sport, we might even be able to entertain you if we're lucky enough."

"Hey, don't drag me into this," Jim refused through his teeth but was hushed when an elbow nudged his arm.

The professor pondered on his statement and thought that it might be worth giving an OK to. After all, that would be quite interesting to see (like he just mentioned a while ago) so he conceded. "Very well. I'll permit your request and I'll take responsibility for whatever recklessness you two might get into, although I'm expecting that you're both mature enough to not let that happen."

"Yes, sir. Thank you," Ferdinand saluted in high spirits, contrary to the other student who just groaned in protest on what had been decided.

"Alright. Gather your boards and follow me," he invited, with Ferdinand wasting no time and darting off to get his surfer. "I'll get you two situated in your demonstration."

The instructor then approached Jim, draped a hand on his shoulder and advised him. "And Mr. Hawkins, no additional capacitor activations unless necessary."

"Sure," he replied, understanding exactly what he implied.

With that, he went to pick up his solar surfer and followed the professor to the edge of the berth. As they walked after him, Jim leaned to his rival.

"Kiss-up," he scoffed.

"Coward," retaliated Ferdinand.


	10. Strike One (Part Two)

**IX. Strike One (Part Two)**

* * *

Preoccupied students would look up from their exercise for a bit to get a glimpse of the club exhibition that was suddenly about to happen that afternoon. Facing to the east, the two contenders stood at the assigned starting point of the race and prepared themselves as they listened to the mechanics from the professor, with their solar surfers at their feet and their hands to their backs.

From the beginning of the one-lap track, their route would comprise of a turn at the observatory as their first mark. After that, they would head on down to the academy's main gate as their second, go around the military oval as their third, before finally making their way back on their class's dock to officially complete the circuit. A rather plain and decent route, if Jim would say so himself.

"I suppose there's no need for me to remind you of the dos and don'ts of solar surfer racing," Prof. Pulver suggested.

"No need for me, sir," assured Ferdinand, being the seasoned racer he was, and went to tease his opponent about it once more. "I'm not sure about Jim though."

Jim sneered with a roll of his eyes. "You wish."

"Well, I'll still be expecting a clean and respectful competition from both of you," the instructor shrugged and decided that it was about time that he commenced the race. "Alright, take your positions please."

Jim then stepped aboard his solar surfer, adjusting his balance with a small wiggle of his forward foot, then curled his fingers on the solar sail's railing. He briefly glanced to his rival whose unwavering gaze was cast directly to the dimming horizon before him.

Turning his head to the direction right where the other students are, Jim saw a throng of them overlooking and anticipating the show that they were about to give, regardless of whether or not the class was already done with the exercise. At this rate, he thought that Prof. Pulver might actually consider giving them an extension since he was quite preoccupied with other things. And by 'other things', meaning the race.

"Engage all solar surfers."

Both of them turned to their engines to switch it on. Pressing on another set of buttons, to adjust to some parameters and to engage their hydraulics, had their rocket thrusters lighting up and ready to be set ablaze. Jim's eyes wandered to the crowd once more and saw Morph with his roommates at a row on the back, waving and cheering for him with Rainier doing some jumping jacks on his own which easily caught Jim's attention first. Just the thought of their support was enough for a smile to appear on his face despite the seriousness of the situation he was in.

"On your marks..."

He finally turned away from them and set his sights to the same horizon that Ferdinand was staring off to. He then let his eyelids fall as he took in a breath through his nose, slowly counting down to three as he emptied his lungs of it. Getting the composure he needed, his clear blue eyes sprang open once more.

"... Get set..."

Backs arched and the pads of their boots firmly pressed on the metal board beneath them, the two went into their game positions as they waited for the final signal to come out from the instructor's mouth.

"Go!"

A swift stomp on the ignition sent them flying off, with their thrusters firing away and leaving a waft of air behind them. They glided low and close to the ground at first but as they made their way up, they were elevating about and cruising through the thin air.

Cheers and shrieks could be heard, not only from their class but also from another ship engineering section stationed at the berth next to theirs. In that area, the brown-haired lad saw a handful of students also waving their fists in the air and whistling to them. However, a professor later approached the crowd and silenced them of their commotion, diverting their attention back to his lecture. It then occurred to Jim that they were probably a part of Ferdinand's clique. After all, this kind of popularity was to be expected from the child of a politician, he thought.

Back in their dock, he got a quick glimpse of his pals who had made their way back to their workstations, already in a good distance from him that they all now looked like a bunch of ants from his view in the sky.

"There they go," Rainier breathed in awe with a salute to the two racers. "You know what they say about magnificent men in their flying machines..."

"Oh, no," whined Chris, suddenly hearing the earworm of a tune softly creep in his ear. "You'd better stop right there, Rainier."

His effort at preventing the Cervid from continuing the song was futile, however, since the blond-haired Dale had already began humming it while he resumed to work on his solar surfer.

* * *

Jim swerved past the observatory, catching a small reflection of himself on the telescope lens before darting off to Ferdinand who was currently in the lead. A bushel of trees could be seen in the distance and the brown-haired lad decided to steer clear of the foliage and glide through the top of them instead. Exiting the woods, he saw that his rival was ahead of him by a mile and had apparently woven his way through them for a shortcut.

Displeased, Jim saw the student affairs building coming their way and pushed his surfer to a faster speed. He then zipped through, going under the narrow strip that connected the two buildings instead of going around them, and leveled himself back up as he returned to normal velocity.

"Finally getting around, huh?" joked Ferdinand who caught up shortly and had swerved near him.

He laughed. "Yeah, I've been around these parts."

"Good for you," he replied, kicking his surfer up and went straight to the administration block ahead.

Ferdinand dove through the buildings surrounding the main one for another shortcut, with Jim deciding to follow his lead this time. For once in his life, the teenaged human had never felt so trapped as he made his way through the narrow and winding path. It didn't feel anywhere close to the quarries he was used to whizzing through back in Montressor, where he could freely let his surfer scratch or even collide with the solid earth and still cause no damage. He needed to value strategy over speed this time, careful as to not hit a window, a wall, or even break a rain gutter as he clipped through the administration's buildings.

When he had left the block and was freed from the web of establishments without getting a scratch on anything, Jim let out a sigh of relief. He then noticed his rival diving into another set of buildings, this time through the arts and sciences department right where Delbert's office was. So much for taking the good-humored doctor's advice on platypus folk.

It finally came into Jim's mind that Ferdinand was doing the detours on purpose, that it was all to show off the platypus kid's familiarity of the place, including every nook and cranny that Jim never even knew existed at the time. At this rate, Jim was quite sure of the slim chance that he would win this race because Ferdinand apparently had the upper hand.

A thought then occurred to him. If Ferdinand could get away with a few tricks up his sleeves, then perhaps he could freely use his trump card whenever he wanted to as well. With that, he left the politician's son get down to his own dirty tactics as Jim kicked his crystal capacitor into high gear like what he did in the race against Ray Quandree. Now that he mentioned it, he then noticed that the current race was nothing but a near repeat of it.

Amused of the thought, the lad roared a laugh as he rocketed around the department and plunged his surfer straight to the academy's main gate, feeling a bit more like himself before immediately slowing down as to not give away the secret behind his little boost.

Leaving the premises of the arts and sciences block, Ferdinand was baffled to see that his opponent had apparently surpassed him, wondering where the little human could have gone through to get him take the lead so quickly.

Passing the gate and coming in hindsight were the dormitory buildings. Ferdinand chuckled at the thought that his rival had never stepped foot in any of them before aside from the one that housed his dorm room. The platypus lad even recalled the panty raids that he and his pals did back in freshman year and how they got to walk out of them scat-free. It was just another bunch of concrete edifices that he could masterfully weave through once more, he thought, and made a mental note to himself that this time, this detour would never let the brown-haired cretin get away with the lead again. He then sashayed into the residences as he repeated the note in his head like a mantra.

Steering away from the dorms, the senator's son could barely believe his eyes when he saw the human rival some several meters ahead of him once more, as if all the shortcuts that he made was for nothing. Enraged, Ferdinand switched into high velocity as he tried to catch up with his opponent at their last location: the military oval.

As he inched near the brown-haired lad, Ferdinand noticed a certain glimmer coming from a portion of the other's solar surfer, slightly shading his eyes from the blinding light emanating from it. He then got a clear view of what it was and recognizing only enraged him even more. It was a crystal capacitor.

"You cheating little scum of the earth!" he called to Jim when he was near enough. "You used non-standard equipment on your solar surfer!"

Jim smirked. "Would you consider us even at this point then?"

Not accepting the fact that the boy had outwitted him again, the platypus lad swerved near Jim and took off one of his boots, revealing his toxic white spur. Zipping past him, he roughly dragged it across Jim's solar sail, making a large rip on it before retracting the small claw-like appendage and putting his boot back on.

Aghast at the size of the tear done on his sail, Jim yelled. "Ferd! What the flip—?!"

"Just considering us even, Jim-Jim!" he yelled back, slowly leaving his rival behind in the solar dust.

The brown-haired teenager then took a quick glance to his surfer's power meters and saw that the damage had done a number on his craft's performance, leaving him with just about thirty percent from his initial capacity. Thirty percent, he thought. Where had Jim heard that before?

With what he had left, there was not even a sliver of hope that he would win the race, probably even finish it. Jim huffed and, seeing no other solution to the matter, decided that he should use his last resort. He thought that it was quite funny that they'd just passed the infirmary. It'd be convenient if any of them were about to get injured with what he was about to do.

Kicking his capacitor into full gear and using everything left from his meters, Jim shot himself straight to Ferdinand, managing to get himself and his surfer entangled with his rival's. Plummeting from the air due to loss of control (and their combined weight dragging on them), the platypus kid steered his solar surfer downward, hoping that he would make it back to the ground in one piece. His metal board soon collided against the earth and dragged a trail against the dirt of the training oval. Coming to a stop, Jim and Ferdinand crashed to the ground face first, the soil managing to stain their uniforms and soften their landing.

At the docks, the pair had vanished from their classmate's sight. The class couldn't quite make off what had happened to them in midair since they were about the size of small dots in the line of vision from the berth, and since their unfurled sails were obscuring what was happening on the other side of their solar surfers.

"That was awesome!" Rainier cheered with an applause.

Dale peeped a bit worriedly. "They did put out an interesting exhibition, but I'm more concerned now that we don't know where they are at." Morph, who was told to stay behind with them, quickly dodged behind the blond's shoulder and held his eyes shut with his tiny hands upon hearing his statement.

The same opinion soon came from a dozen of other students, the thought that something terrible must've happened to the pair alarmed a lot of them save for the professor who still managed to remain calm, having placed his trust in the exhibitionists.

"Everyone, please remain at your stations," he ordered before dashing off to where the two had landed. "I'll go look for your classmates."

* * *

Ferdinand boosted himself up with an arm, his other one sore from the impact of their landing. He searched around for the human and saw him lying down still on his side. The senator's son then propped himself up and walked to where the lad was and when he was close enough, he grabbed him by the arm and flipped him on his back, the lad wincing as he rolled himself up. Grabbing him by his shirt, Ferdinand held Jim up in the air, the latter grunted as his hands gripped onto the former's arm in an attempt to escape from his grasp, a mixture of anger and pain welling in his eyes.

"That was a crystal capacitor," Ferdinand growled. "We _do not_ bring non-standard equipment in class activities. Ever."

Jim answered with the same angered look on his face. "And we _do not_ have shortcuts in race tracks. _Ever_."

"That doesn't count!" he shouted at the lad and shook him in his grip.

"Like how your filthy spurs don't count either?!" he retaliated, remembering the huge slash made on his solar sail. In his rage, he held tightly onto Ferdinand's arm for leverage and swiftly raised his knee which hit the platypus kid bluntly by the side of his stomach. The dull pain loosened his rival's grip on him, allowing himself to fall and get his feet back on the ground.

"That does it!" bellowed Ferdinand out of frustration and pain, a hand now holding onto his aching gut. "You are officially blacklisted from the solar surfing club!"

"Fine with me!" Jim hollered as he staggered to stand up straight. "Good luck running a club of sore losers like you!"

The furious teen grabbed onto his shirt once more and just when Ferdinand was about to get back at him with a punch to the face, a thundering voice called out. "That's enough!"

The two immediately froze on their feet, recognizing that voice anywhere. They broke apart from their mid-squabble and faced to the direction where it came from, from Sgt. Boyd who was marching to them straight from the corps base. "Time to break it off! You two!"

"Sergeant!" Prof. Pulver suddenly called out with a huff, arriving in the scene at the nick of time, and saw that his pupils were quite well and uninjured (aside from the ache on Ferdinand's stomach and the bruise on his ego). "Perfect timing, as always."

"Prof. Pulver," addressed the drill sergeant. "Am I right to assume that these boys are yours?"

"Yes," he confirmed, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand after a rather unexpected jog. "They're both students from my class."

"That explains the solar surfers," he observed and indicated the pair of still working machinery on the ground nearby. "You know how students can be once they've managed to get a hold on these things."

"That's true, but not for these boys," he defended the two. "They asked for my permission first before they took off."

"Y-You permitted them to solar surf within campus grounds?" the officer questioned. Realizing that one of the students was Senator Escamillo's son gave him a small idea behind the reason. "Wait, is this about the club that Escamillo is petitioning, the one that you kept telling everyone about?"

"Yes. Mr. Escamillo asked for my permission to do an exhibition with Mr. Hawkins here in order to promote his club and to showcase their talents to their fellow classmates."

"And I suppose this little 'exhibition' of theirs went well for you and for the sake of said club?"

"I could say it did. It was a fairly entertaining presentation, save for the part when it all went downhill." He then turned to the two teenagers. "What happened back there exactly? I wasn't able to see since your solar sails were all let down."

Jim spoke first. "He was taking shortcuts."

Ferdinand blamed, pointing a finger to Jim. "He installed a crystal capacitor on his solar surfer and activated it during the race."

"He tore up my solar sail with his spur for that."

"He crashed his broken surfer on mine which sent us falling back to the ground, and he kneed me on the stomach."

The instructor pondered on their accounts, trying to piece it all together starting with his decision on Ferdinand. "I see. So let me get this straight: if only you weren't taking any shortcuts, then Mr. Hawkins wouldn't have activated his crystal capacitor."

Jim concurred with his deduction. "Yeah, that's true."

He then turned to the brown-haired human. "And if only you didn't activate your crystal capacitor, Mr. Escamillo wouldn't have torn up your solar sail."

"That's right," the platypus kid agreed.

"And lastly, if Mr. Escamillo hadn't slashed Mr. Hawkins' sail, then there wouldn't be a need for him to retaliate. Am I correct?"

"But he started it," Ferdinand defended still. "He brought non-standard equipment to class!"

"One thing I'm sure of is that taking it out by breaking another student's belongings won't necessarily help justify the situation," the instructor reprimanded then turned to the other teenager who just kept his head low. "Tackling another student and engaging them in a fistfight won't do you any good either."

"Sorry, sir," replied Jim.

"Well, this is quite a complicated situation, Pulver," commented the drill sergeant. "How do you suppose should I deal with these two?"

"They did take off with my permission, so you'll have to let that one slide," pondered the professor once more before going on a more serious tone. "But I will say that they _did_ violate the school regulations, on a different basis that is."

"And how will they be appropriately ruled on then?"

"I could say that Mr. Escamillo's grave offense is damaging another student's property," he informed, indicating the now ripped up solar sail on Jim's surfer. He then turned to the teenager responsible for the pain on Ferdinand's stomach. "On the other hand, Mr. Hawkins can be apprehended for participating in an altercation."

A thought amused Jim the moment it went into his mind, the fact that the instructor didn't imply that he was the one responsible for igniting that little brawl. He knew it when he realized that it was Ferdinand's offense that instigated it while they were still in midair on their solar surfers. But the professor wasn't wrong either, hitting and kneeing someone wasn't an exception to the rule even if it was just out of self-defense.

A small chuckle he had been trying hard to suppress suddenly escaped from his lips, earning him some weirded out stares from Ferdinand and from the two faculty members. In embarrassment, he brought a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat.

"Sorry," muttered the lad, coyly stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Sgt. Boyd wrote down the professor's claims on his clipboard before assessing the situation once more. "Are you sure about this course of action, Professor?"

"A hundred percent, Sergeant. It will suffice, just to impose to them that such delinquency won't happen again."

"Very well," the drill sergeant permitted, bringing his clipboard to his back then turned to face the miscreants. "You two, follow me to my office. _Now._"

* * *

Jim had fled from detention that afternoon after serving his imposed timeout with co-offender Ferdinand, avoiding contact with the platypus-like rival all that time even when they were on their separate ways out of the room. The presence of the old guidance counselor in their midst didn't help the situation either, with the sour expression on her face perpetually burned in the back of Jim's head.

Glancing to a wall clock, the brown-haired lad saw that it was about time his economics period was dismissed, realizing that he skipped on it because he had to. As he walked to his last subject for the day, he saw Kate approaching from the other side of the hall, on her way to astronomy class as well, and paused on their feet when she caught sight of him and were near enough.

"Coming straight from detention, I see," she commented.

"Yeah," Jim conceded, a faint smirk making its way back to his face. "Fresh hell, if that's what you mean."

With a click of her tongue, she notified. "There is an essay due tomorrow in economics class about the topic discussed today. I thought I should inform you since you skipped out."

"Thanks..." he said, caught off guard that she would go out of her way to tell him that.

"But you did build a rather decent solar surfer. Prof. Pulver spoke quite highly of you to our instructor during ship engineering class," she brought up, being the first thing that went in her mind and since she wanted a say on the matter. She supposed that his output was even better than what hers could ever be, but of course she would never go so far as to admit that.

His faint smile curved into a wide grin upon hearing her compliment him on his work. "You ever been on one?"

"Not at all," she confessed and shook her head a bit. "My father thinks they're quite hazardous and recommends the first thing that comes close instead."

"And that is?"

"Torpedo boats, but they're not as fast even when compared to just a standard solar surfer."

"Oh," he simply replied, her answer not quite what he was expecting. But still, a torpedo boat was a lot more than the solar surfer he was used to. "Then maybe I could show you the ropes one of these days."

"Like what you and Ferdinand did in your little show back there?" she suggested in absolute sarcasm. "Sure, that'd be really mature."

He laughed at the thought. "Nah, it won't be anything like—wait, you saw all that?"

"Our class section was stationed at the berth right next to yours," she informed and as if that wasn't justified enough, she added. "And you were both out there flying in the open."

"Believe me, it was all Ferd's idea," he explained. "Even the fact that he got Pulver's permission for it."

Kate furrowed her eyebrows and speculated at his account. She would be lying if she denied her concern for everything that he just said. "You mean... he authorized that race?"

"Yeah, thanks to Ferd's smooth-talk. He probably thought that he could put me off just because he wanted to prove that he's better than me. It was his failed attempt though 'cause none of us won the race in the end, though it wasn't a clean competition for both of us throughout."

"And the stunt was _not_ why you were both called in to detention?"

"Nope, but part of it was. Long story. Ferd tore up my solar sail, that was his main offense. Mine was _partly_ for kneeing him on the gut because he wouldn't let go of my shirt. But hey, points for him 'cause I stupidly took the bait, and I kinda deserved it anyway."

"And you're still fine after all that?"

He pondered on her statement for a bit and replied. "I'm already used to getting in trouble a lot, but it sure feels different in this place."

"That's because you're in the Royal Interstellar Academy, Jim," she stressed enough to remind him. "The last place that you should be messing around in so I suggest that you straighten up and stop making things difficult, not only for yourself but for the rest of us in here."

His mouth had formed into a crestfallen frown at her advice and he shrugged, tucking a free hand in one of his pockets. "Thanks for the concern but you know, this really has nothing to do with you."

"Of course it has anything to do with me!" she corrected. Slightly flustered from the thought that the boy probably got that in the wrong context, she crossed her arms in defense and immediately backed up her statement. "As a member of the student council, it's my place to say that it's also _my_ duty to deal with offenders like you and Ferdinand regardless of what a pain in the neck it is to do. So don't take it as some sort of concern coming from me."

"Then why didn't you do anything back in the docks if dealing with people like him is that important to you?" he argued, beginning to get agitated.

She confessed flatly, her temper already competing with his. "I _would've_. If only the class wasn't in session, then it wouldn't be so disrespectful to the professor if I did, right?"

Although provoked, he still saw through the rationality of her cause and stopped their little squabble from going any further. He instead looked away from her and let out a heavy sigh to calm his nerves down, lightly pinching on his nose bridge a bit and now feeling more tired than anything. "Look, I've had a really long day, so maybe you can just... belay all this and save it for tomorrow. Sound good?"

Kate shrugged and breathed out, allowing to let the whole thing just slide but not without a couple of reminders to be sure. "Just... try to keep out of trouble. It's for your own good and it'll make things easier, not only for you but perhaps for my sake as well. _Our_ sake."

"You probably won't believe me but I've been working on that even before I got into this place," he admitted as he lifted his line of vision from the hallway floor and back to the red-haired girl, a look of worry now painted all over his face. "I really am trying, Kate. I'm doing what I can."

She let her arms down and softened her gaze, trying to empathize with the lad who was in the throes of his qualms, and advised in a more concerned tone. "Simply telling me that won't convince me, Jim. You have to prove it."

"I know. I'm just not sure how to spell it out for you."

Their silence filled the hallway when they finally became unsure of what to say next to the other. For a while, they stood like that as they sought refuge in the quietness, like there was a black hole pulling their troubles into the abyss. All that time, they simply hoped that the silence surrounding them and between each other's presence would lighten up the heavy burden they were carrying on their shoulders.


	11. Not Far From Home

**X. Not Far From Home**

* * *

Just for that week, Prof. Biel Greyfeld decided to dismiss his last class way earlier than usual to get a head start on one of his many tasks for the next two weeks or so, and that was going through and grading all essay submissions from all five sections of his economics subject, with about a hundred pupils in each of them as itemized in his class lists.

Among his students was the brown-haired Jim, who just got out of the room and straight to his locker to stow in some things, then probably head back to his dorm room and hang out a bit, killing some of his free time there while waiting for his last class: astronomy. He thought he needed some silence, more than what he was used to after all that's happened the other day. The fiasco that he got into with Ferdinand just really rattled him up, and thought that it would be best if he could just forget about the whole thing and speak as if it never even happened.

But every time he would happen to see Ferdinand in his group of friends passing by the corridor, it would remind him of that very incident and every instinct in Jim's body would go on a flight response, avoiding the senator's son the first chance he got because if he didn't, he might as well get himself into another disagreement with him. They would get into each other's nerves once more, then another brawl would ensue between the two short-tempered teenagers.

He hated to break it to anyone but he won't risk getting another two delinquency strikes just because of some guy that he ran into a day ago. True, he and Ferdinand had only met very recently but for Jim, he felt as if he already knew Ferdinand for the longest time, and not in a very good way.

As he passed through the set of lockers by the hallway, Jim suddenly heard a short familiar call of his name, not entirely noticing the person while he was deep in thought. He heard the voice again, whipped his head around and saw that no one was behind him, until he noticed Dale waving his hand to him which was quite sticking out from inside his locker.

"Dale?!"

"Hey," he bashfully greeted, a slight pained look on his face apparently from the squeeze his arms and torso got from the metal compartment that he was jammed into. "I wasn't expecting that you'd see me in a rather... compromising situation like this."

"How in the galaxy did you end up like that?" he asked as he walked to his blond roommate.

Curious to know what the fuss was all about, Morph flew out of Jim's pocket and saw the same sight of a teenager stuck inside his locker. He gasped in shock and hovered close in an attempt to comfort him.

"You know Salle?" began Dale, bringing to mind that one guy from Ferdinand's all-around posse.

"Yeah. What about him?"

"He sort of asked me to do his economics essay for him."

"'Asked'?" Jim pointed out in skepticism.

"_Threatened_," the pangolin kid promptly corrected. "But I wasn't able to do it last night 'cause I had fallen asleep while working on mine halfway. When I woke up, I realized that if I still have to do Salle's essay, I wasn't going to make it to the deadline so I just finished up mine instead."

"And you didn't do his essay."

"No, no, I did. Well, not really. I paid Cob a visit. You know, one of those guys you can pay to have your homework done for you. I got him to help out since he wasn't doing anything at the moment, but when I handed the essay over to Salle, he wasn't very pleased with it. So he ended up not submitting anything in today's meeting and, well... I got what was coming at me," he concluded, indicating his current locker situation.

"Sheesh, I'll put the blame on Cob," huffed Jim. "He probably messed up that essay big time."

"Probably. I just quickly skimmed a bit through the whole essay so, yeah, it probably stunk."

"Lesson learned: never let Cob or any homework guy do your dirty work," he finalized, making the same mental note to himself. "Anyway, here. Let me help you out."

"Thanks, Jim," he said with a look of relief. "I can't really move my arms and since you're out here anyway..."

"It's okay, I got you." The young man then grabbed Dale by his barely movable hands. Morph held onto a cloth of his jacket and with a grunt, the two gave the pangolin boy a good yank, pulling him out of his storage with some of his things flying out in the open with him.

Jim offered to help pick up some of them but peeking into the blond's bag of trail mix, a crestfallen frown had appeared on Dale's face. "Dang, he crushed my yogurt chips."

As the pink shape shifter settled himself on Jim's shoulder, the brown-haired lad raised an eyebrow at his roommate. "Do you ever run out of those things?"

"Some weeks, but my mom sends me a new bag along with my monthly allowance." He then took out a crumbling chip from it and held it to Morph who happily snatched it from him.

"It figures," he chuckled.

"But hey, since it's the end of the month, maybe our stipends have arrived today. Can we go check them out?"

He replied easily. "Sure. We still have more than thirty minutes to waste. We might as well waste it on something."

"Great! Come on," he urged after closing his storage, and started their way to the academy's postal storage.

"Though I'm not surprised that Salle would choose you to get his way with it, since you're doing pretty well in economics and all," Jim suddenly commented, the thought not leaving his head. "Does the rest of Ferd's group share the same strategy with having people do their work for them?"

"No, not all of them. If I know anyone who does, there's Salle, there's Quinn... But Ferdinand's actually an exception from them since he's quite an overachiever, as you're already aware. He's very knowledgeable of his stuff, but his friends respect him a lot that they never ask him to do their work for them."

"Well, they probably got it in their heads that if they don't respect him enough, they'll be hearing from his politician of a mom pretty soon."

Dale laughed. "That's true. Senator Escamillo won't be very happy to know that her son is slaving away with another student's homework."

Jim clarified. "So, Ferd's chumps can threaten literally anyone to do their bidding?"

"Only those who are below Ferdinand's class rank. Or his mom's position, either will do. Which means Katherine Blake, in particular, is obviously out of the question."

"Lucky her," he simply said then brought up the Leonid's no-nonsense disposition that made a statement wherever she went. "Not like they have the guts to approach her for it in the first place."

"That's true, too," he laughed once more. "Katherine's very stunning and all but if I could have a word in it, she's literally a close feminine miniature of her dad. I mean, being the admiral that he is."

Just as they were talking about him earlier, Salle could be seen around the corner of the hallway, a shark-like teen with gray skin, and beady eyes blinking on both sides of his T-shaped head. He seemed to be talking to someone and when they got near enough, Dale froze on his tracks and stepped back. Jim paused when he realized he his roommate was no longer walking beside him.

"Dale?"

"Oh, sweet merciful heavens," whimpered the blond who was about to make a heel turn, fearing for his life when he saw the same guy who stowed him in his locker. "I thought I already had enough trouble for today."

"It's alright, man," he said to stop and calm down his ruffled companion. "He's not gonna do anything to you. I got your back, okay?"

"O-Okay. If you say so, Jim."

To assure Dale of his statement, the brown-haired teen stepped ahead and getting a glimpse of who the gray-skinned teen was talking to, Jim noticed that it was the black-haired girl who once helped him out with the algebra proficiency exam. Telling from the look of her face, she seemed rather uninterested in what the shark-like teenager was saying, with her arms crossed and green eyes cast somewhere else.

"So, you're gonna do it if I bought you dinner for two nights?" Jim faintly heard the lad ask as he got near him, thinking how inappropriate his words somewhat sounded.

"That won't cut it for me, Salle. How about five nights?" she negotiated.

He chuckled. "You sure know how to haggle with a guy but alright, I still got plenty to pay for all that. Dessert included."

"And I get to choose whatever I want."

"Yeah, sure. Everything's your call."

"Then you have yourself a deal. I'm down to do it," she finally agreed much to Jim's shock of the uncouth situation she was in.

The guy then stuck out his hand so they could shake on it. "You drive a hard bargain, Miss Morstadt."

Just before the girl could reach out to Salle's hand, Jim walked back to them to instantly cut in on their conversation, with Dale stopping on his tracks once more. "Wait, wait. What exactly are you two talking about?"

The girl quickly turned her head to the two teenagers approaching, with the lad she was talking to also glancing to their direction, unnerved that someone had gotten word of their transaction. "Why would you like to know?" she asked.

Pausing behind Jim, Dale brought up to a questioning Jim. "Perhaps it's something to do with his homework being done?"

His roommate narrowed his eyes at him. "Really, Dale?"

"Well, Salle gave me an offer in exchange for his economics essay, too, although dinner for five nights is definitely worth more than what he promised in our deal."

"What did he offer you?"

The blond twirled his fingers in discomfiture and informed. "Just imported jelly beans."

The shark-like teen interjected. "And I would've fulfilled my promise if only you'd made a proper essay."

"You mean... it wasn't made well?"

"Well, duh. It was taken straight from a volume of Talavera's economics series which was hardly difficult to spot. If I submitted that essay to Greyfeld, I'd be interrogated for plagiarism!"

"Oh. I didn't notice." Feeling defeated, Dale then leaned to Jim and whispered. "That explains how Cob got to write it so fast."

"Clearly. But from the way he's talking, Dale, I don't think jelly beans will be enough for whatever they've agreed on just now."

"What do you mean?"

"Not sure if it's his homework that she's about to do," he stressed which helped clear up his explanation to the blond and enlighten him, earning a long 'oh!' from the pangolin kid.

"What are you getting at, son?" the shark teen asked, eyebrows furrowed, puzzled and not sure where the direction of their little confab was heading. He then turned to his female companion and questioned her. "You know this guy or something?"

"He sat beside me during the algebra pre-test. That's all I know about him so far," she denied, equally perplexed as he was.

Resuming his talk with Jim, he sneered. "Well, look at that. You barely even know her, so why don't you just butt off and mind your own business, hmm?"

Jim wasn't going to let this slip, however. After how the black-haired girl helped him out in that proficiency test, he thought that this would be a good opportunity to pay her back by getting her out of their trade. He then went back to talking her out of it. "You're seriously gonna have a go at it with him?"

Indifferent, she just shrugged and stated her obvious reason. "Yeah, it's free dinner."

He clarified the whole situation for the last time. "So, you're letting him reel you in with five nights-worth of dinner on his tab, just so he could make you do hi—"

To stop his fretting, she immediately appended to correct him. "... his math exercise?"

Hearing the main reason behind the deal, Jim stood speechless and unsure of what to say next, slightly humiliated by the fact that his hypothesis was actually proved wrong. Aside from that, he felt even more embarrassed that he even thought up such a theory. Contrasting his chastened silence was his delighted roommate who was quite spot-on with his speculation.

"I was right!" Dale exclaimed with a snap of his fingers.

The girl assured them of her case. "Yeah, I get the idea that it's literally cheating, but I'm not gonna be in trouble if I don't get caught, right?"

Jim was stuttering now. "I know, it's just... I thought you're about to... That he was gonna..."

She then got an idea of what the human was probably thinking. "You thought I was gonna do something else, didn't you?"

"... Yeah."

"I see. How Salle's deal came out to you probably sounded a bit... gross, since you never stuck around to hear the rest of it from the start."

Salle got to follow through with her explanation, finally clearing up the whole muddled-up conversation for him and spoke to the brown-haired lad. "Oh... You thought I was about to make her do something lewd for me? Is that it?"

He was met by a small nod from the human boy and he guffawed at the thought. "I should've seen it coming!"

"Apparently, you weren't paying attention to your words," she deadpanned.

"Hey, so did you. Otherwise, this dirty-minded twerp here wouldn't be getting the wrong idea."

"I'm not!" the lad denied. "I just can't stand to see her be treated badly."

"Really? You're seriously looking out for a filthy little urchin like Lillian? And thought I'd be interested in going out with someone like her to top it all off?" Salle laughed, infuriating Jim even more. "Hah! You've obviously no idea who she is."

Meanwhile, the black-haired girl rolled her eyes at his statement, still managing to remain calm after everything that was thrown at her. "Yeah, we get it, Salle. Don't drive it to the deep end here."

"But hey, I don't mind the accusation. I might actually consider getting some with you eventually."

He then raised his hand to reach for one of her pigtails but in an instant, a hand grabbed him by the wrist and his entire arm was then pulled to his back. It was as if everything just flashed before his eyes and only realized later on that he was actually pressed against a wall. He then saw from his side who his captor was: it was the brown-haired human, with a firm grip on his arm and another on his shoulder.

"You fiend," Jim cursed under his breath.

"You're mad at what I just said?" the guy taunted. "If I knew you better, I'd say you actually have a thing for her."

On the other hand, the girl just stood there and saw the whole ordeal right before her eyes, dumbfounded and not liking every single second of it. "... What—"

"What's going on here?" a familiar voice shouted from behind.

A grin swept across Salle's face and Jim immediately let his grip loosen on him, a frantic look on his face upon recognizing who it was. Scared of where the situation was going, Morph quickly whizzed behind Dale's shoulder.

Salle turned around to greet the guy as he soothed his aching arm. "Hey. So glad that you could come right on time, boss."

"What have you gotten yourself into this time, Salle?" Ferdinand asked, behind him was his awaiting posse.

"Nothing at all," he explained with a shake of his head. "I was just making a homework deal when this little punk just decided to butt in without hesitation. He's the one you should be questioning."

The platypus-like teenager then turned to the indicated troublemaker and acknowledged him with a smirk. "Good ol' Hawkins, eh? I wouldn't expect that you'd be taking out our rivalry on my friends."

"You definitely have poor taste in making friends," grumbled the young lad.

Upended, the senator's son shoved Jim against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. "I'll have you know that these guys are my most loyal cohorts. They'll follow me and my every word 'cause they know greatness when they see it, so I won't take kindly from anyone who messes with them."

"Well, it makes sense why they'd choose a ringleader like you."

Just as Ferdinand was about to charge at him again, one of his chums walked up from behind and whispered. "Say, ain't this the guy who, like, tried to show you up at your solar surfer exhibition yesterday?"

Another guy spoke. "Yeah, and crashed his surfer at yours then kneed you on the gut?"

"That's right," the platypus lad answered quite appreciatively. "I'm glad you're all aware of that."

Dale tried to negotiate. "But you haven't heard of Jim's side of the story."

"Can it, pipsqueak," a guy intimidated. "I should probably say the same to you on Ferdinand's account."

"Of course, you wouldn't be interested to hear it anyway," the disappointed blond conceded.

Ferdinand then silenced his underling. "No need to deal with cannon fodder like him, Durer. This business is just between me and Hawkins."

The lads nodded their heads at him and took a step back. "Sorry, boss."

"But since you're all here anyway... Salle!"

Hearing his name called, the shark teen grabbed Jim from behind, the human being held captive this time around. "I got him right where you want him, boss!"

"Jim!" Dale called out as he was held back by some of Ferdinand's friends.

"Hey! Let go!" Jim cried while he thrashed against Salle's grip. Seeing that he was completely helpless, Morph shrieked and looked away, all the while hiding behind his owner's roommate.

"Come on, let's help out Salle," invited one of Ferdinand's lads.

"Grab his other leg!" "I'll get him by his hair!" some boys hollered and when they finally got him tied down, Ferdinand threw a punch to Jim's face. His pals then boisterously cheered on him before pushing their captive aside, allowing the dizzy human to stumble on the floor from his pain.

"There's no greater payback than that," Ferdinand breathed while he ran a hand on his reddened fist. "That's for kneeing me on the stomach, Jimmy-boy."

Light on his toes and attempting to find his footing, Jim dashed to Ferdinand with a swerve and sent back a fist to his rival, delivering a likewise punch to the face. His hand swiped across Ferdinand's cheek, cutting the platypus lad by the lip, before the boy fell down on the floor once more.

The senator's son brought a hand near the sting, right where Jim had punched him, and later noticed a smudge of blood on his fingers. "Why, you little—"

With Ferdinand's group ganging up on his roommate again, a restrained and helpless Dale gasped at the terrible sight and the black-haired girl immediately brought herself between the two rivals in an attempt to stop their little brawl, seeing that all of this was beginning to get out of hand.

"I think that's far enough, Ferd," she ceased.

"Who are you to tell me that it's over?!" he bellowed.

"No! I'm saying that you two are already making a scene!"

He paused from their debate and gave a good look around him, seeing a dozen students overlooking them and the commotion they were causing. A group of boys picking on one student was the vibe they were giving away, and Ferdinand realized that he was not being seen in a very good light for that nor was seen as a victim this time around. "So, what, you've decided to defend him because I have the upper hand now? How quaint," he chaffed.

"I'm not defending anyone but trust me, I don't think this is worth catching Boyd's attention for. Besides," she smoothly advised. "You wouldn't be interested with getting caught in Salle's homework problem in the first place, right?"

Taking in her account, the elite teenager brought a finger to his chin and pondered. "Maybe you have a point with that. I actually forgot about the whole reason behind this little squabble," he said in a lighter tone then turned to the shark-like teenager with a threatening glare. "In that case, you'll have to cancel my pal's deal since he's already inconvenienced a lot of us enough."

The girl did a double-take and bargained, seeing the thought of five nights-worth of free dinner just flying out the window. "Wait, so that means I won't be getting my part of the deal anymore?"

"That's what you get for cutting our little boy talk short, you raggamuffin," he taunted.

Disappointed to know that the deal was off, she huffed under her breath. "Jerk."

With a menacing smirk, he went past her then threw a glance to his rival. "Don't worry, Jimmy ol' boy. I'll make sure to properly settle my score with you next time."

With that, the group of male teenagers began their way out of the scene with Ferdinand tugging the brawl's shark-like instigator by the ear. Left behind them was the blond-haired Dale helping his roommate get up and once Jim was back on his feet, the still furious teenager groggily tried to creep up to the group, wanting to continue socking Ferdinand for what he just did and partly for the black-haired lass as well. However, he felt someone grab him by his jacket sleeve just when he thought he could get away with it.

"Uh-uh. You're not starting another one," the girl warned, apparently the one holding him back.

Dale agreed and advised on the burning splotch on Jim's cheek. "Right, especially with that bruise already starting to form on your face. You have to let that heal first before getting into another fistfight with Ferdinand. Although I wouldn't recommend it, obviously."

A concerned Morph flew to Jim and turned into a medium-sized bandage, plastering himself on Jim's bruise. The teenager brought a hand to the small shape shifter to comfort him, appreciative of the little guy's warm gesture.

"Come on. We're taking you straight to the infirmary," the girl invited.

Dale asked. "Can I come, too?"

"I don't see why not. Your pal's gonna need someone to keep an eye on him and to keep him out of trouble."

"But it's just a punch on the face," Jim assured, his hand still on the feverish spot of his cheek. "It's practically nothing."

The girl huffed. "Alright, then let's see how long it would take for Boyd to notice that shiner on you, huh? 'Cause when he does, you'll definitely get your much-awaited showdown with Ferd, and down at the student disciplinary tribunal at that. But don't worry, I'll save your pal here a front-row seat."

His roommate agreed with her, already aware of Jim's delinquency issue. "She does have a point, Jim."

"But if _that's_ what tickles your fancy then by all means, you're free to walk out on us right now."

Although he favored the second option more, Jim feared the thought of the drill sergeant hot on his tail and getting another strike from him, so he just sighed. "Alright, fine, I'm going. Just get me an ice pack by the time we get to the nurse's station."

* * *

The infirmary was quiet and hardly any students were inside at the moment. On one vacant patient bed, Jim sat by the side while Dale settled on the bench in front of him. Approaching them was the black-haired girl, holding a bag of ice wrapped up in a towel and offered it to the brown-haired human. "Here."

"Thanks," Jim said halfheartedly, taking it from her hand then pressing the cold damp fabric on his bruise, wincing at the sting he got from it. He then saw her take a seat near Dale and pick at the loose stitching of the cushion that she sat on. He called to her. "I still think it's a bad idea, you know?"

"What is?" she asked.

"Doing someone else's work for them, even if it's not the one I had in mind."

A small chuckle trembled on her lips. "It's not like I'm down to do any of it, but personally, a free dinner is just an offer that I couldn't pass up, especially when the monthly stipend hasn't arrived yet."

"I can relate to that," Dale interjected and Morph, who was hovering near him, nodded in agreement.

"But I think it's a bad idea, too, in your case," she thought.

"What is?" Jim asked as well.

"Marching up to Salle when he was getting a bit frisky."

"What's wrong with that? He was being a jerk."

"I'll tell right now, that was... ridiculous and absolutely unnecessary. I thought you'd know better than to—"

"W-Wait, what are you saying?" Jim stammered, taken aback by what she said. "You mean it's okay for him to take advantage of you? That you're fine with him messing you up? He even called you a... an urchin or something, and you're just gonna let him get away with it?"

"Oh, boy," the lass groaned to herself.

"You're lucky enough that I was there to flip him off for you."

"So, that was all for me, for my benefit?" she derided. "You know what, it wasn't. I'll never deny that I'm an urchin because I _am_, and now you're just making a fool of yourself for getting into deep trouble for me, someone you barely even know."

He felt his temper already rising. "I could at least get a 'thank you' or something out of all that!"

"Why would you? That was so uncalled for!" she argued. "I could've taken care of the situation well on my own and I didn't even need to ask for your help, but you just went at him without even thinking!"

"Well, I should probably say the same thing when you just went at me during the algebra pre-test!"

"Well, look at that," the girl cooed, slightly hurt and coming back at Jim's statement with a taunt. "Still in denial, are we?"

Once again, the lad was unsure of what to say next, proven wrong that he would deny he actually needed her help at the time. Their argument was cut when an unnerving silence filled the space between the three of them.

"Anyway, I still have things to do." She then stood up from her seat and went straight to the exit, opening the door, and stopped to give a last-minute bid. "Good luck covering up that bruise from Boyd though."

Once she had left the room, Jim scowled, not appreciating her cause in their little debate. Just when he noticed that his roommate was about to ask him on it, the lad went ahead of him to say "Forget about it, Dale. It's not worth beating yourself up for."

The blond twirled his fingers in thought, who remained to just stay quiet the whole time while the two were squabbling. "I think you should be telling that to yourself, Jim. It's more fitting to say in your current situation."

"Right," he chuckled as he shook the thought away and glanced at the bag of ice in his hand. With a thought, he then jumped out of his infirmary bed and recalled. "Well, then. In case you forgot, we still have our stipends to collect."

"Oh, yeah!" Dale exclaimed. "I've completely forgotten about it but with that discoloration on your face, shouldn't we be on a look out for Sgt. Boyd then?"

"That's one thing, but I can rely on Morph for that," he cheered up, the said little blob chirping affirmative notes at them. "And you're here to keep an eye on me anyway, right?"

"Okay, but my part in this doesn't sound very reassuring though."

* * *

Leaving the infirmary premises, the two made their way to their initial destination and got a sense of relief that they were finally about to do what they had planned wasting their free time on. The walk back to the administration block was long and tedious, but enough for them to pick up their monthly allowances and still have some time to spare on their way to the academy's observatory for their last class. Fortunately for them, they weren't able to catch any signs of Sgt. Boyd around nor did the military officer caught word of them.

Once they had arrived at the postal service, the two approached the counter to present their IDs and inquired if anything had flown in for them that day. The teller excused himself real quick to look through the many shelves of pigeonholes behind him for their mail.

Later, he returned and went back at the two boys with a pair of envelopes and a brown bag in hand, with Jim guessing that the latter was the ration his roommate was looking forward to. They then made an entry on the logbook and took their parcels with them on their way out of the room.

On their way to astronomy class, Dale unsealed then brought the bag to his nose and gave it a good whiff. "Ah, nothing like the smell of fresh trail mix stock."

"Good for you," Jim replied.

He then stowed the brown parcel in his messenger bag and went to check the contents of his envelope, counting the paper bills in it just to be sure. "And yup, it's the same allowance that mom sends out."

"Once again, good for you," he now said with a chuckle.

"Aren't you gonna check yours?"

"Sure, since we're just walking out here anyway." Opening his stipend envelope, Jim got the sight of banknotes that amounted to his pre-discussed monthly allowance. On the side, however, he saw a small piece of folded up paper then took it out of curiosity. Unraveling it revealed a short note, apparently coming from his mother Sarah.

_"Jim,_

_I know you're doing your best over there, but please don't be too hard on yourself._

_Don't skip your meals. Get some fresh air. Take good care of yourself. You're more important to me than anything, sweetheart, and I'm still just as proud of you._

_I hope you're having a great time._

_Love you,"_ it said and Jim somehow heard her voice in the back of his mind as he read through, thinking that she was probably smiling on the day that she wrote it. But he also knew that she would still be a hundred percent worried about him, for his wellbeing and all. If there was anything Sarah Hawkins held dear the most in the world, it would be her one and only son.

"What's that?" Dale asked when he wondered why his roommate went silent all of a sudden.

He looked up from the piece of paper he held in his hand and turned to the blond. "Just a note from mom but it's nothing special," he half-lied.

"I'll take a guess that it probably says something about going home if you're already broke."

"Yeah, something like that," he affirmed, folding up the paper once more and sliding it in his pocket.

To Jim, it still made sense how Dale's guess was true to him, with the note reminding that there's still someone he could go home to if everything around him was already falling apart or was all getting completely out of his control. It didn't sound comforting for him but despite that, those few meaningful words still urged him to keep doing the best he could while he's still there, to not go down without a fight and to not break his loving mother's heart by just giving up his fight so easily.


	12. Strike Two

**XI. Strike Two**

* * *

Metallic clunking sounds echoed in the night at the now empty faculty corridor right where Prof. Greyfeld's office was and another second later, a sharp click soon followed.

"I'm in," a male voice whispered to his two companions and retracted his pair of lock-picks back to his pocket, swinging open the now unlocked door.

Entering the room and closing the door behind them were three of Ferdinand's friends who had made their way to the said professor's main desk. Their instigator, the shark teen Salle, wasted no time and went through one filing cabinet after another in search of a certain compilation of papers.

"Now, we gotta be quick. We don't want to catch the attention of the guys patrolling the area with a lit office at this time of night," reminded one of them who held onto the oil lamp that served as their only source of light in the pitch dark room which he had set down on the desk.

"We know, Berkeley," scoffed another teen, Quinn as he was commonly addressed by his schoolmates. "But you gotta admit, my summer break locksmith training days have finally paid off, no?"

"Now, we just need to make use of that for the cafeteria's main pantry," laughed the lamp owner.

Salle then exclaimed and brought out the stack of papers he was looking for, the pile of economics essays that their class section had submitted that very day. "Found them!"

"Great job, now find his paper and make the switcheroo already," Berkeley instructed before remembering one important detail. "You _do_ remember his name, right?"

The shark teen chortled as he leafed through the pages. "Pfft, how could I forget? Ferdinand literally called him out thrice this afternoon. Hawkins this, Hawkins that. The very reason why I couldn't get anyone to do my math exercise for the whole week, and now I'm stuck with having to do it by myself."

"Not to sound like an optimist, but the extra brainwork could do you some good," sassed Berkeley which earned him a small chuckle from Quinn.

"Very funny coming from someone who has their older brother do their homework for them."

"I have my standards, Salle. And to tell you the truth, I don't think this whole scheme of yours would fit right into Ferdinand's standards either."

He hummed. "Maybe, but I'm gonna take a shot at it anyway. I want to get back at the twerp, and Ferdinand wants to get back at the twerp. This whole thing would end up both in our favor anyway so he can't really blow me off for this."

"Whatever you say," he shrugged and finally conceded. "I'm just in this for the one-week free lunch that you promised."

"Same here, and to maybe show off my lock-picking skills," Quinn added.

After a long search, Salle finally found and took out the essay submission he needed. "Here we go, the punk's economics essay."

"James Pleiades Hawkins," Quinn read the essay owner's name at the top of the first page then hissed. "A real mouthful. Who even names their kid 'Pleiades' these days?"

Berkeley shrugged. "Who cares? Let's just make it out to 'Jim Hawkins' and make the job easier so we can already be done with this whole thing."

"Good idea," Salle noted as he took out his pen from his bag with his own economics paper which he never got to submit that day. He wrote Jim's shortened name at the very top and slid it inside the stack with the rest of their class section's essays, replacing the one that Jim originally submitted. He then returned the papers back in the cabinet that he took it out from and closed it shut. "There, all done."

Quinn nodded in approval. "Too bad Greyfeld itemizes our submissions during roll call. Else, you could've just taken Jim's essay as your own when you switched them around, and Greyfeld wouldn't even notice that you've snuck yours in without his knowing."

"True, but there's not a chance for us to get a hold of our class list since he always has it kept somewhere safe," thought Berkeley.

"Yeah, inside his duffel bag which he carries around with him all the time," Salle affirmed.

"But now that we're done with the switch, what are we going to do with Jim's essay?" asked Quinn who was holding up the document in the air.

With a thought, the shark teen glanced to the lit oil lamp and suggested. "Let's burn it."

"And leave a trail of ashes around and have this room smelling of smoke by morning?" warned Berkeley. "You have to be out of your mind to actually make an idiot move like that."

Quinn proposed. "Then why don't you just take the essay back to your dorm room and dispose of it the way you want to, Salle?"

"No, there's no way I'm gonna hold on to that thing any longer! But since I'm just gonna throw it in the garbage anyway..." He then took the paper from Quinn's hand and crumpled it into a ball before dumping it in the professor's near-empty trash receptacle. "I could just leave it here. No one's gonna notice a thing."

Berkeley hummed. "Not bad. Not good either, that is if Greyfeld keeps a sharp eye on his trash."

"Yeah, right," Salle laughed and began to walk out of the room. "Who in the right mind would even have the time to do that?"

* * *

Two weeks had passed since Jim last heard of anything from Ferdinand or any of his pals. It was not that he minded the absence of chaos between the two of them for a change but there was something rather unnerving about it to him, that he might have spoken about it too soon and word would just pop up before him at a time when he very least expected it, especially since his rival had already forewarned that he would be getting back at him eventually.

Once Prof. Greyfeld had returned the class's essay submissions, he announced to his students just as he was about to dismiss them before the school bell could ring. "Now that I have that out of the way, the rest of pages fifty-five to sixty will be your reading assignment for the weekend. I have some guide questions that you can answer to help with your reading comprehension..."

As Jim was listening in to the reminders and taking down notes of them with his tape recorder, Dale leaned to him and whispered while pointing to his own already graded paper. "Hey, Jim. Didn't you get your essay back?"

"No, not yet," the brown-haired teenager replied to his roommate's sharp observation. "I'm not the only one though."

"That's true," Dale agreed, looking around the room to see some students in the same essay-less situation like Jim. "Maybe Prof. Greyfeld is still grading them back in his office."

"Yeah, and it makes sense that it would take him some time since there's about five class sections of essays that he has to go through."

Dale's eyes then landed on a familiar shark-like teen. "But I'm not surprised that Salle won't get a graded essay back for this week because of, you know... what happened two weeks ago."

With his blond roommate bringing it up, he remembered the implied essay conflict that escalated quickly into a brawl, with a disapproving frown curving on his mouth at the thought of it. To aggravate it even more, he felt his other roommate repeatedly poking a finger on a slight discoloration on his cheek, right where there was once a very visible bruise that he got from the incident. "Okay, Rainier. I get your point already," he breathed.

"I'm just trying to point out the evidence from what was implied to have happened two weeks ago," the Cervid teenager huffed. "But I'm still upset that Chris and I weren't around when it happened. If we were there, the four of us could've been even with Ferd and his goons!"

Chris spoke up on this. "Hey, I'm just glad that Rainier wasn't around to make things worse than it already is."

"Hey!"

Dale cut in to change the topic of their conversation. "Don't worry, Jim. You'll get your chance to iron things out with Ferdinand eventually, and I'm pretty sure you'll get your essay back in no time."

Jim leaned back and crossed his arms. "I don't think I'd mind if I never got my essay back anyway. I'd be better off that Greyfeld would have it for safe keeping than to just let it collect dust at the bottom of my bedside drawer."

Rainier agreed, chuckling at the thought with his roommates. "Right. It happens all the time."

Shortly, the school bell had rang for the end of the class period and while Jim was about to leave his seat, he heard the soft-spoken professor call out to him. "Mr. Hawkins, a word if I may."

Standing up straight and taking his notes and tape recorder with him, he told his roommates. "You guys should probably go ahead to the observatory." He then patted on the pink blob inside one of his pockets and once Morph had flown right out, the shape shifter was instructed to go along with Jim's pals.

"Yeah, that'd be best so we can save you a seat," Rainier waved back to his roommate with little Morph resting on one of his shoulders as the three of them made their way out of the room.

Turning his back to his friends, Jim walked down the lecture hall aisle and approached the professor, all the while curious of what the bird-squid hybrid of a middle-aged man had to say to him.

"Please take a seat," the professor offered, indicating the first seat on the row directly in front of him. "It might take a while since we have to thoroughly discuss something that recently caught my attention."

"Okay?" the lad shrugged. "What is it about then?"

"I'm sure you realized that you don't have your economics essay yet, the one you submitted two weeks ago."

"Yeah, I noticed. Why, is there something wrong with it?" asked Jim, wondering what could've happened to his essay that he had to be called for so urgently.

Unsure of how to break the news to his young student, the professor continued to survey him. "Before we get to that, I'm certain that you've already went through the academy's house rules even before the term began. Am I right?"

"I did, sir."

"And I know you're well aware that the academy imposes strict prohibition in copying someone else's work and claiming it as your own, also known as the act of plagiarism."

He asked in absolute shock. "Wait... are you saying that I plagiarized my essay?"

"Well, yes. I should say so. It contains a patchwork of chosen sentences from section three of Santiago Talavera's economics series volume one."

_'Talavera,'_ Jim repeated in his head, the name somewhat oddly familiar to him like he had heard of it sometime not too long ago. After a lot digging up in his thoughts, it then occurred to him that it was the same author whom Salle mentioned that his essay was plagiarized from, the reason why he never got to turn it in. Doubtful that he was in the same situation as the shark teen was, Jim asked so he could finally see the essay for himself. "Can I take a look?"

The instructor then glossed over his folder, pulled out a document from it and handed it to the lad. "I was about to let you see my remarks on it anyway but here, go on right ahead."

He took the paper from the man's hand and scanned its contents, particularly the many red circles which marked the parts that had been taken straight out of the economics textbook. With this, his theory was proven right, that it was the same homework deal material that Dale got for Salle. Aghast at this revelation, all Jim could do was wonder how it managed to replace the one he submitted to Prof. Greyfeld himself, as well as question where his original essay was right now. "No way..."

The professor queried for the student's dubious reaction. "Or did you not notice that you've been plagiarizing the whole time while writing this essay?"

"What, no! You got it all wrong. This isn't the essay that I turned in that day," Jim defended, his shortened name written at the very top of the page catching his attention. "This isn't even how I write my name in my papers."

The professor paused to think of his account. "Then are you implying that your work had been sabotaged by someone?"

"I know it was. I would know immediately if it's my essay or not because I wrote it myself, and I know didn't even use any of Talavera's books to help me with it."

He pondered once more. "In that case, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, Mr. Hawkins. But per standard protocol, I still have my prerogative to refer a trial for you at the student's tribunal. Plagiarism is a grave and punishable offense after all."

He scoffed. "Really?"

"Yes, unless you can prove to me right now that someone else did this essay. Can you come up with an alibi for that right now?" the professor suggested in an attempt to help the lad clear his name of the misconduct.

At that moment, Jim found himself in a tight situation once more. He had knowledge of the guys who did other people's homework for a price but he didn't want to bring that up, knowing that there would be an uproar should the academy get word of it, so he decided to scratch that explanation off his list. He would rather let the academy find that out for themselves than to put the blame on some strangers just so he could bail himself out of his quandary.

On the other hand, there was Salle who had a connection to his rival Ferdinand, and happened to have the same plagiarism problem with his essay. If Jim knew Salle any better, the shark-like teen might've been involved in his current situation to make up for the trouble he caused two weeks ago. However, there was no tangible evidence currently existing which could prove that. Also, bringing up that account might cause Dale to get caught in the mess since the blond had one of the homework guys work on Salle's essay which he was threatened to do, and it would all lead straight to his first dilemma once more if ever his roommate would be interrogated for it.

"N-No, sir... I've no idea who made it" was all he could say as to not complicate things any further.

"Then perhaps you have a theory on how it got in my file with the others, though I wouldn't know how that happened myself since I have my all-seeing eye on your documents all the time."

He shrugged once more, knowing that the problem was completely out of his reach. "I've no idea about that even more."

"That's a shame. At least one of the two alibis would help you nullify your offense," the man sighed in defeat. "But in any case, for now, you'll have to be considered guilty of the act until proven otherwise. Do you understand?"

Jim finally complied. "Alright, but do you really have to make me go to the tribunal?"

"I'm afraid so. If I didn't, I might be suspected of covering up for a student who just committed delinquency. I wouldn't want to complicate things to have you reach that point, Mr. Hawkins."

"You're right," Jim agreed, thinking that it was just the most rational thing for the professor to do. "I really don't want anyone else getting involved in this, to be honest."

"I'm glad you understand my cause." The professor then began packing his things up and prepared himself and his young companion to leave the room. "Now, we should be on our way to the tribunal. The meeting won't take long but we should make haste if you want to make it to your last subject."

Although appreciative of the professor's concern for his scholastic performance, Jim turned him down bluntly. "Thanks, sir, but I think I'm alright with skipping that one out."

"Nonsense," the man spoke in a light-hearted tone. "It's just one trial meeting, Mr. Hawkins. It shouldn't mean that it's the end of the term for you. As long as you'll comply until we get to figure this all out, everything will be alright."

"For now," Jim added in a soft mumble so his older companion couldn't hear it.

What Prof. Greyfeld didn't know was that this would make it Jim's second delinquency strike. Despite how consistent the man was with trying to make the burden easier for him to bear, the brown-haired boy couldn't help but worry about what was going to happen to him for the rest of the school term. He was about to be down to his one last strike and he knew sudden mishaps that could pop up at him any time, like the one that recently happened to him, didn't help with his situation at all. His perpetual rivalry with Ferdinand just added to the pressure of being vulnerable to all sorts of trouble, and increased the likelihood that he could be dismissed from the academy earlier than expected.

Although he was still a sophomore student, Jim was already quite familiar with the student disciplinary tribunal's head director Dr. Vera Edinel, seeing that she was the one whom delinquent students must always face for guidance counseling. Aside from being the director of the tribunal, the professor was also one of the prominent instructors of Statistics in the academy, a subject that Jim wasn't looking forward to take in his junior year (if ever he would make it to junior year). The sterile vibe that the tribunal gave away contributed to the stern aura of the professor and her co-directors that Jim found it more unsettling than the time the star Pellucid devolved into a black hole, but preferred it more in comparison to the time when a spider-psycho was on the move to kill him.

As he and Prof. Greyfeld walked to their destination, Jim began to contemplate on whether he should even be in the academy or not in the first place. If he was indeed found recommendable by Amelia to the academy, he wondered how trouble could still manage to constantly follow him wherever he went despite his new disposition in life. He thought it would've been easier for him if he hadn't accepted the invitation, since the place would only make him look like twice the failure he initially thought he was when he was still living in his juvenile days.

Then he somehow felt a familiar sensation in the pit of his stomach. It was that feeling again, the same condescending mixture of failure and guilt that he carried with him all his life, from the cold treatment his father gave him whenever he got home, and made even worse on the very day his father left him. It was the same feeling that stuck with him while growing up.

Jim hated the thought of it. It only reminded him of his constant doubt in himself, wondering why his father couldn't treat him any better spite of doing everything that he could just to gain his father's approval. It then turned into a reminder of his inability to persuade his father from just walking out on his family, even after everything Jim did to prevent that.

It reminded him of his dad's departure, how that event made Jim feel like being a failure was all he thought he could be, even if he never deserved it in the first place. Most important of all, it reminded him of how Leland had failed both Sarah and their son, how the lad loathed his father's very being because of that.

But to Jim, there was one thing that he was sure of at the moment. He knew that there was no turning back, now that he had decided to take the helm to this course he chose for himself, regardless of whether he knew where it would lead him or not. At least he knew that if he was about to get kicked out of the academy for good, he would finally be even with his father in a way that his disappointment, his very feelings for his old man, would finally be reciprocated.

It didn't make him feel any better, but it did get him to reflect that he was somehow subconsciously following his father's footsteps at making decisions in his life, and that fact only made it worse for the young boy.

* * *

_"Au clair de la lune, mon ami Pierrot, prête-moi ta plume pour écrire un mot..."_ sang Prof. Everly's voice from Jim's tape recorder as she was accompanied by the song's instrumental from a wind-up turntable.

That following Thursday noon on a table at the far end of the library where barely anyone could hear them, the boys of room 1-1-5 decided to have a short group study for their literature subject, mainly for the translation assignment given to them that morning as well as for their respective writing exercises.

"I could literally listen to her voice for hours," dreamily sighed Dale, his chin resting on his palms and his head apparently in the clouds. Little Morph waved a hand in front of him to catch his attention but to no avail. So the pink blob just gave up on it and took his place on the desk they were working on.

Jim yawned, not being fond of trips to any place like the library since all attempts at reading or studying there would end up with just him falling asleep on an open book without realizing it, then jested. "But that's not what we recorded her for. Isn't it, Dale?"

Rainier laughed with a light jab directed to the blond pangolin teen. "Yeah, but if that _was_ the homework, then Dale would be getting a clear shot at an A+ for it."

Before Dale could make a remark at his roommates' comments, Chris cut in who was busy playing a video game in his handheld console, not bothering to pause and look up from it. "We're lucky that we got to record her singing it anyway. How can anyone even pronounce those words?"

"It's French, Chris," the blond explained matter-of-factly. "It is meant to have that particular unique style, which people of sophistication and eloquence are bound to be quite knowledgeable of."

"Then I must be the most sophisticated and eloquent man in the galaxy," the black-haired Rainier noted, holding his now finished translation of the song to Dale's face. "Just kidding, I just went along with the words taken straight from a French dictionary."

Taking the paper from his roommate's hand, Dale read through the words in his output as he thought aloud. "Is this right though? 'In the moonlight, Pierrot answered: I do not have a pen, I am in my bed. Go to the neighbor's house, I think she is there because in her kitchen, we are making fire...'"

Slightly disturbed by what he just heard, Chris had to look up from his console with a pained expression on his face. "Holy sh... shooting stars. You can hear yourself, right?"

Jim felt himself choke on his own spit and frantically coughed upon hearing his roommate's short yet unsubtle comment, apparently agreeing with him.

"Wait a minute..." The blond quickly pondered on the lines of the song as his eyes scanned through them once more. "Something feels oddly inappropriate in this translation."

Jim's coughs then turned into soft chuckles. "Oh, now you tell him," he said as his laughter slowly subsided. He waited for his roommate's response once he was finished re-reading Rainier's output, hoping that he'd get their point, and later heard the pangolin boy gasp in horror.

"Good grief!" he cried and held the sheet away from him in distaste. "Rainier!"

"What?" he sassed, trying hard to hold in his laughs. "It's an accurate translation, and I think that got us hitting the jackpot on the topic of subliminal messages, the one that Prof. Everly told us about in her lecture. Who would've thought?"

"Well, now I can't listen to her singing this without thinking about the 'other' context of it," he winced.

The Loppytonian seconded. "You and me both, buddy."

"Believe me, I've had enough double-entendres in the past three weeks to last me a lifetime," Jim groaned, recalling the misinterpretation incident with Salle that had caused him so much trouble.

In the midst of their chatter, Jim hardly noticed that someone was approaching their group and had given him a small tap on the shoulder. Slightly jumped by the sudden sensation, he turned around to see that it was his red-haired writing partner, holding a piece of paper in her hand.

"Oh, hey," he greeted. "I didn't realize that you're here, too."

"I was about to leave for lunch but since I noticed that you're here anyway, I thought I should give you my literature progress report now instead of our usual Friday," Kate explained and handed the print to Jim. "I'll be swamped with a lot of things for tomorrow so I might as well give it to you before I even forget."

"That's fine," Jim replied, taking the progress report from Kate's hand. "Though I'm impressed that you already have it out so quickly."

"I don't have much of a choice really," she sighed. "With all the other requirements I'm supposed to do for this week, I should at least get some of them out of the way, little by little."

On the other side of the desk, Dale raised his hand a bit to catch her attention and spoke. "Say, Miss Blake. Would you believe that Jim will plagiarize his writing exercises anytime?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason. It's just we're entertaining the thought that Jim might or might not have plagiarized his economics essay, which was the reason he got another delinquency strike for," Dale overshared, earning him a bewildered stare from his incriminated roommate.

The Leonid shook her head and brought a finger to her chin, giving him her thoughts about her writing partner. "Not in the least, no. I don't think someone whose writing exercises I monitor weekly, and were praised by Prof. Everly herself to the same extent as mine, could've committed plagiarism if it never reflected in his outputs before."

His jaw dropped, Rainier blinked like a camera flash had hit his face, amazed by the girl's smart deduction. "Good point."

She continued with her reasoning. "That further raises the question on why Jim would have the need to do it if he's been doing a _somewhat_ decent job in his studies this whole time, even before that whole dilemma you've been talking about happened to him. No offense, Jim."

"And none taken," the lad waved a hand then said quite unsurely. "Thanks, Kate. That's... probably the nicest thing you've said about me ever since the term began."

And she raised an eyebrow at him as well, partly amused by his reaction. "I didn't actually mean that as a compliment, but do think nothing of it," she said, holding back a smirk before excusing herself. "Well, I should be on my way. I'll be waiting for your contribution to our project this afternoon."

"Right. See you then," he assured and with that, the girl had taken off without another word. Shaking his head of the thought, Jim went back at his pals and cooed. "Well, I wasn't expecting that."

His Cervid roommate hummed. "And should we expect a happy announcement by the end of the school term?"

"... Huh?"

Before Jim could follow through with Rainier's bantering, Dale immediately cut in. "Speaking of happy announcements, has anyone actually written a love poem? You know, the one for our bingo game?"

"Nope," Chris flat-out replied. "Not interested in making one at the moment."

His brown-haired roommate answered. "No, but I'm working on a poem anyway."

A surprised Rainier did a double-take to his friend's claim. "Really?"

"Then can we hear it?" the blond urged.

"Sure, here it goes. 'I could get kicked out. Well, that's just my luck. Can't stress it enough, but my whole life sucks.'"

"Oh," quite disheartened, Dale peeped. "That is rather good, Jim. Unless of course it's in real context."

The pink blob frowned in agreement, empathizing with the sad tone of his human companion and sniffed.

Sensing his pal's distress, Chris pulled out a purp from one of his pockets and tossed the fruit to Jim. "Here. Eating helps take a little bit of the edge for me."

"Ah... Thanks, man," Jim said, puzzled by the unexpected sight of fruit in his hand, and simply slid it in his other pocket since any kind food or drinks weren't allowed inside the library. "I'll just save it for later 'cause, you know..."

Rainier, being cynical he was with a lot of things, questioned the Loppytonian on this. "You actually carry a purp with you all the time? In the library even?"

"Well, yeah, but no one gives Dale some flak for his trail mix."

The blond offered upon hearing his trail mix being brought up in the conversation. "Oh, would you like some?"

With a sigh, Chris just conceded on the matter. "I rest my case."

"I'm sure Jim can handle it, Chris," he comforted. "We don't know how but he will get past this, as well as hopefully deal with his deep-seated issues with Ferdinand."

"Or better yet, we could ambush Ferd and his buddies and get back at them for whatever they did two weeks ago," Rainier jumped in and proffered as if to contradict Dale's statement. "We can challenge them to a purp fight, with forts and catapults and all, and just go gangsta on them!"

Chris pondered on his plan. "But won't Jim still be suspended since he's going to be a part of the ruckus?"

"Then... let's do it without him!"

"Hey, you guys. Take it easy," Jim calmed his roommates down who were apparently empathizing with him (even if he didn't want them to). "I'm not gonna get suspended, and I'm definitely _not_ getting anyone else involved. I just..." He sucked in a breath. "... really need to clear my head of this for now."

Chris sighed. "If you say so. Just to remind you, the fellas and I got your back with whatever it is you're about to do on the matter. We know that you're going to do what's best anyway, so why bother argue with that?"

Jim, realizing that his roommate understood his cause, looked up to him with a half-smile. "Thanks, Chris."

"Well... Moving on to another topic, I think I'd better revise my translation paper," the Cervid said to change the mood into a less serious one. "Wouldn't want Dale's Miss Clair de la Lune to get too shocked with my output."

"And I should go check out some references for my writing exercise," Jim excused himself and stood up from his seat. Morph took off from his spot on the table and whizzed into Jim's pocket once more. Just when he was about to grab his tape recorder, the lad asked. "You guys mind if I take this with me?"

"Not at all!" said his black-haired roommate. "We have the original lyrics on print anyway, and I think Dale could go through the entire day without having to hear anymore of Prof. Everly singing some double-entendres."

Taking the handheld with him, Jim didn't stick around for long to hear Dale protest on Rainier's constant bantering, about his interest in the literature professor nonetheless. Skipping back to an earlier timestamp on his tape recorder, Jim listened in on the list of textbooks given for them to research on for their current writing exercise. He then made his way to the card catalog, pulled out a title card of one of his references from a drawer and took note of the book's call number.

Around the indicated section where the reference material was, Jim walked past shelf after shelf as he skimmed through the books' labels but later heard voices coming from the other end of the bookshelf, right in the one hidden study table that no one usually went to. His attention was further caught when he heard the mention of his name.

"You did _what_ to Hawkins?!" a voice bellowed in anger.

And then it hit him; one of them was Ferdinand's voice that Jim had known so well. Curious of what the fuss was all about, Jim approached the end of the shelf and hid behind it, seeing that it was indeed his rival with three other guys apparently talking about him.

He heard the shark-like Salle explain. "You wanted to get back at him, right? Well, so did I, and I thought this was the best for me to do to make it up for the both of us."

"Yup. That's what he told us last night," backed another student.

Growing even more skeptical, Jim held up his live tape recorder to their direction to take down everything that was being talked about.

"I don't care! So what if I did get even with Jim through that? The whole thing is just downright wrong!" Ferdinand continued to reprimand.

The teenager named Quinn asked his unexpected reaction to their little affair. "You mean... you didn't like that Salle did it?"

"I mean, I would've actually appreciated your concern if you only just switched his essay with yours, but to think of breaking into a faculty office to do that?!" he pointed out, much to Jim's shock which he had to hold in if he didn't want them to notice that he was listening.

"Heh, the security in this place sure is laughable since we got to walk out of the scene clean as a whistle," the guy Berkeley snickered which earned him a death glare from his leader.

"I'll have you know that the academy won't tolerate such despicable action if ever they found out about what you did! You won't even get a strike for it 'cause you've technically invited yourself out of the place!"

"But there was no other way for me to gain access to his essay so I _had to_ do it," Salle defended.

With a slump on the desk and his hands cupping his face, Ferdinand groaned. "I don't know about you guys, but I think I'm starting to re-evaluate our friendship because of this."

"That's one way to put it," deadpanned Berkeley. "Although Salle did say he wanted to do it because he kinda values your friendship with him. He didn't mention that though, but I thought it was obviously implied."

"And you don't?"

"Why, of course I appreciate our camaraderie. It's just that I was really looking forward to Salle's offer of a one-week free lunch as well."

Thinking deeply of his underling's account, the platypus teen just threw his hands in the air and gave up. "Alright, fine. I'll let this one incident slide and I'll take all responsibility for it. But if ever any of you buffoons would think of doing a hat trick like that again, I won't have a word in it!"

"In that case, should we even nick him next time around, Salle?" Quinn asked.

"I don't know really," he shrugged. "But if ever there was a need for that, we all know that we shouldn't mess around with his stuff in literature since he's apparently partnered with little Miss Admiral."

In contrast to Jim's horror to his statement, Berkeley guffawed. "Right. She would end you if ever she finds out that you've been messing with his work since he'd be dragging her down with him."

Looking up from inside Jim's pocket, Morph saw the unpaintable expression on Jim's face and decided to act on his concern for him. He then flew out and into the lad's other pocket to take out the purp given to him earlier. With the fruit in hand, he hovered near Jim's face and held it out to him.

With his attention caught by the shape shifter, all Jim could do in the midst of his panic was bring a finger to his mouth to silently shush the pink blob. Morph, perplexed with Jim's reaction on the other hand, turned around to see what was actually happening, only to be surprised by the uninviting sight of Ferdinand and his group. Getting the hint, he just simply rushed back into the lad's pocket but dropping the fruit he was holding onto in the process.

The purp rolled away from the young brown-haired human and to the direction where the four male teenagers were seated. The senator's son was the first to notice it on the floor and looking up from where the fruit came from, three sets of eyes soon followed and they were now all directed to the lone Jim who whimpered.

"Oh, no..."


	13. Absolution

**XII. Absolution**

* * *

"Excuse me! Coming through!"

Sliding out from one of the library's bookshelf aisles was Jim who, upon approaching some students along the way, wove through in his haste to get out from the place. He abruptly pushed past them and swiftly ducked beneath the nearest table he could find to hide from the four other teenagers who were hot on his tail like he was some game at open season.

Ferdinand, the leader of the four, then came out from the same aisle and paused on his tracks when he had lost sight of his target. He held back his peers and ordered them to look around. "Spread out, but don't make any unnecessary ruckus."

Berkeley nodded to affirm. "Right. We don't want to make a scene in the most immaculate place in the academy, don't we?"

As the four had split in all directions, the brown-haired teen took a quick gander and when he realized that he should make his way to the exit before any of the four could get there first, he hurriedly ducked back beneath and crawled from one table to the next, taking double-takes to make sure that he was clear from the surveillance of both Ferdinand's group or anyone else who was inside the library at the time. Hovering near was Morph who helped him out by keeping an eye on what was happening around them.

He was soon at a table near the receiving area and waited for the right moment when all eyes were not panned to that direction. Jim got on one knee and prepared himself to jump at the student book so he could log out. Doing so would make him free to dash out of the room without alerting the tight security of the premises.

Far from the table he was hiding under were his roommates who hardly noticed that he was being chased around. That was until Dale made a remark from out of the blue. "Well, Jim sure is taking his time."

"Ah, leave the guy be," Chris brushed off, still not taking his eyes off of his gaming console. "He said he wanted to clear his mind a bit, so why not give him the chance while he has it?"

Meanwhile, Rainier was about done revising his translation exercise and when he looked up from his paper to ponder on it for a bit, a peculiar thought crept in his mind when something caught his eye from the receiving area. "And looks like he needed some air for it, too."

"What do you mean?"

Rainier pulled out the pencil wedged behind his ear and pointed it to what he was referring to. His roommates' eyes followed the direction and saw Jim placing a pen back on the table upon making a record on the student log. After that, he briskly walked to the exit and immediately bolted away once he was outside.

Dale commented. "Well, he sure left in quite a hurry."

"The quicker he does it, the better, I guess," Chris still supposed with a shrug.

His suggestion was scrapped, however, when Ferdinand's group came to their line of vision and was hurrying to log out at the receiving area, one by one leaving the room with their leader taking the first step out. Once the gang had left the room, it was now apparent to the three why their roommate was in the rush to get away from the place.

"Oh, no. Not again," Dale whimpered as he dragged a hand on his face in frustration.

Chris agreed while switching off his gaming device. "So much for clearing his mind of this stuff."

"In that case, shouldn't we be going after them or not?" Rainier spoke upon standing up from his chair with a determined look on his face. "Our pal's gonna need some backup."

* * *

Jim breathed heavily as he ran through the main hallway, getting away from his pursuers as far as he could. With a faint smile on his face, Jim took in the sensation of the wind blowing in his hair and the relief of his liberation from Ferdinand's tight hold, with Morph whizzing by his side. But his joy was short-lived when he heard his rival's thundering voice from a distance as he was drawing near.

"You are _so_ gonna get it this time, Hawkins!"

Panic struck him fast, like a current of electricity jolted from his fingertips and through his veins, Jim jumped on his feet and sprinted even faster than before. He now openly admitted to himself that he was scared for what he was about to get from the platypus kid this time, especially after stumbling upon a secret that he or any other person was not supposed to know.

He soon reached the main hall's intersection and stopped behind a corner to catch his breath, his anxiety even made breathing difficult for him. Taking a step back, he didn't realize that someone was walking behind and he quickly turned around to apologize for bumping into them. "Sorry, I was..."

Before he could continue with his explanation, the sight of the same black-haired girl he met in math class made him pause when she caught him by surprise, with Morph hurrying back to his pocket upon catching sight of her, eyebrows furrowed at the lad and an unwelcoming stare from a pair of round green eyes.

"You again?"

"Yeah..." he replied simply, unsure of what to say next in his hurry. "It's... good to see you again, but I'm in really _big_ trouble this time, so..."

Upon hearing the lad say 'trouble', she remembered the time when the kid got into a run-in with Ferdinand's clique and heard the platypus lad mention something about settling his score with his rival. She then figured out that the lad was probably caught in his unfinished business with the senator's son at the moment, and wondered what he had gotten into this time.

Like it had happened on cue, the teenager had called out to him. "Hawkins!"

Jim's fear shot up once more, and he shook his head then pushed past her to resume with running away from his captors. "I have to go!"

With that, he instantly left the lass and darted off from the scene. The girl, however, never took her eyes off of the situation and turned to face the other way to see four other teenagers in pursuit, fast approaching to where she currently was. She wasn't surprised that no one was calling any of them out for running in the halls since the faculty and hall monitors were all still probably out for lunch. Pondering of the lad's situation, she knew that their cat-and-mouse chase, like what was happening at the moment, wouldn't end well for any of them if no one would dare step in to stop it before the group could catch up.

The slight figure of Sgt. Boyd passing by at the end of the east wing caught her eye, and the lass was somewhat disturbed by how uncharacteristically thankful she was at the sight of him. Now all that was left to do was get his attention. Glancing to her right hand was a nearby cart full of library books set aside. With a roll of her eyes, she let out a timid grumble. "Here goes nothing."

From Ferdinand's point of view, he could see that he was already closing in on his human rival, thinking of what punishment he had in store for the lad who unwittingly invited himself into their exclusively private conversation. He could almost see the end goal when Jim was now apparently cornered at the west wing. That was until a book cart suddenly wheeled itself up on his face.

The platypus teen was quick to stop on his heels upon seeing it pop up before him, but his chums weren't too keen with the unexpected blockage on the road and they collided with it, knocking a number of books out of the cart and, unsurprisingly, knocking down the cart itself.

The noise they made echoed through the hallway and as expected, Sgt. Boyd clearly heard it from his side and marched straight to where the commotion was to check on it himself. Arriving at the scene, he was received by a mess of three teenagers and a cart all sprawled on the floor with library books flung out in the open.

"What is going on here?!" he hollered.

Jim's roommates had arrived shortly at the right moment and Dale was quick to explain. "They were running after Jim, sir."

"What?" He turned to reprimand the four male students in question. "Running in the halls? And an attempt at breaking school property at that?!"

"That was partly my fault," a female voice cut in, and the black-haired girl explained with a raised hand. "I leaned on the cart a bit and then it just rolled away."

The drill sergeant interrogated her in doubt. "Am I right to assume that it was all done completely unintentional?"

"Absolutely," she lied and defended. "I didn't even know that spurhead and his goons were coming this way and that they'd crash right into it."

He took her justification into account and went back at the four. "Then that brings me back to my question: are you not aware that running in the hallways is forbidden?! There's a reason why that house rule exists, and that is to prevent pitiable accidents like this from happening!"

Ferdinand spoke up. "But Hawkins was running, too. Even faster than we could!"

"Well, duh, of course he _had to_ run faster than you lot," Rainier argued from his end. "That's the whole point of 'running away from you'."

"And why on Cresentia was Hawkins running away?" the officer continued to probe.

The platypus lad hesitated for a good second before coming up with a plausible excuse. "He overheard my group having a private conversation in the library."

"And might I know what you and your peers were discussing, since it apparently had Hawkins running for dear life?"

"Well... It's a bit of a personal case, sir..."

"Yeah, it's very personal alright," Jim affirmed from behind the crowd as he walked closer to them, much to Ferdinand's bewilderment for sparing him from giving away their secret. "Though it shouldn't be anything serious to you, sir, since it only had something to do with his dirt with me."

"I see," said the sergeant, discerning that it had always been that way between the brown-haired lad and the senator's son ever since that one solar surfing incident the two got into. "Should I make the move to step in this pressing matter, now that this beef between the two of you is already getting out of hand?"

"Now that you mention it..." Dale began thinking out loud but was stopped by Jim who threw a hand in front to prevent him from saying any more.

"No, not at all," the human lad denied. "It may not look like it, but we have this under control."

Without another thought, the sergeant then ruled them out on their offense. "But running in the hallways is definitely not a recommendable countermeasure. You five will then be spending some quiet time in detention this afternoon for the racket you caused earlier." He then turned to speak to the black-haired girl. "I'll let the cart incident slide, but you better clean this all up."

"Sure," she replied with a shrug and promptly went to the book cart to prop it back up.

"And Hawkins, you march yourself to my office at this very moment," he told Jim. "I have important matters to discuss with you."

Quite hesitant, the young man replied. "But, sir..."

"But what?" he asked upon hearing the student's protest.

"Can I catch up in a bit? I think I should help out with something."

The drill sergeant shook his head of his excuse, beginning to get impatient. "Can't you deal with whatever that is later?"

"I mean I was thinking about helping _her_ out," he expounded and indicated the student who was already quite preoccupied with the task given to her.

Seeing his cause and realizing that it would make the job faster, he finally permitted. "Alright, fine. But because you and Escamillo are apparently the root cause of this whole mess, you two will go help out with tidying up the book cart," he said, receiving some responses from the other two students.

"Ugh, really? I have to help out?" Ferdinand complained.

Meanwhile, the lass was quick to decline the offer. "N-No, I think that won't be necessary."

The officer instead continued with his instructions as if ignoring their pleas all along. "You best go straight to my office as soon as you're done, Hawkins. I _will_ be waiting."

Holding back a shaky spit take, Jim replied. "Yes, sir."

The drill sergeant then prepared to leave, as well as the few students who had been observing them all the while, now that the show they put on was finally over. Ferdinand's gang was urged out of the scene by the officer, Jim waved farewell to his friends for now, and the platypus-like teen grumbled as he picked up one book from the floor and carelessly tossed it on the cart. "Great. Instead of having lunch with my date right now, I'm wasting my time helping out fix something that was never my fault in the first place."

The girl, down on her knees to gather back the books that had been thrown away in all directions, sneered. "I think this is actually doing you a favor since you could use losing some weight."

"Says the grape-girl who gets so puffy from some wet and _absolutely_ harmless bit of rain," he taunted back and proceeded to do the same to his rival. "And lookie here. This probably makes it, what, my second delinquency strike for this term. Unfortunately for you, this would make it your third, Jim-Jim. How pitiful, like how Boyd's probably in his office right now, waiting to break the news to you."

Picking up the last book near him, Jim got on his feet and sorted them back on the cart. "Sure. That's the thanks I get for not blowing your gang's dirty secret, huh?"

"Well, of course I have to thank you for that, although I have no idea why you would think of doing it but thanks anyway. To return favor, I think I might as well make the most of our time together in your last detention hour since you'll definitely be told to start packing up your things." He sighed sadly. "And here I was already getting used to seeing your sob face all the time."

"True, but that won't change the fact that I can still drag you and your chumps out of this place with me," he pitched. "Selling you guys out to Boyd will probably get you into bigger trouble than I ever will."

"And you're expecting that he will believe you that easily?"

"Oh, I'm not expecting anything," Jim innocently shrugged before holding up his tape recorder and playing a part of the group's conversation that he caught on audio, all for his rival to hear.

Hearing his voice mingling with the others, Ferdinand's eyes widened, panicking over the fact that the recording was solid evidence that could expose his comrades' schemes and potentially ruin his own well-established reputation. "Hey, give me that!" he cried, rushing to Jim to get a hold of the recording.

But he was too late. The brown-haired lad thought ahead and had taken the recording wax tape out from the device. He held it in the air for his floating pink companion to snatch it from his hand and the blob quickly carried it with him to the ceiling, far away from anyone's reach.

Angered, the platypus lad held his rival by the collar and persisted. "You tell that thing to bring it back here right now!"

"Nope," Jim said simply with a bitter scowl. "Threatening me for it won't do you any good either."

Up in the air was Morph who nodded in agreement with a smirk, having no plans of coming back down until his owner was free from any sort of threat.

The black-haired girl walked closer to them with her arms crossed and assessed how deep in trouble the platypus-like teenager was. "No better crack at taking revenge than blackmail, is there?"

A frown swept across Ferdinand's mouth upon hearing her remark, which meant she knew that he was undoubtedly cornered. He then glanced back to Jim who now had a smug grin all over his face and he realized that there was no way of getting out of this situation clean. He finally let go of his rival in defeat and took a couple of steps back with his hands in the air. "Alright, alright. I'm not gonna do anything stupid. So just chill out, will you?"

The brown-haired lad dusted off the wrinkles made on his uniform and, at a safe distance, Morph hovered closer to Jim's head. "I'll be holding onto the evidence from here on to make sure of that. Just to fill you in."

"Even if you could get expelled from the academy for blackmail?" asked the girl.

"It doesn't really matter to me if ever I get told on for snooping around or for blackmailing people. If it's worth doing for my sake and for my friends, then I don't mind getting kicked out of this place at all," he replied.

"Well, your 'friends' sure are a lucky bunch to have someone like you around," she commented in absolute sarcasm.

"Yeah, and you're a lucky girl. I'll tell you that," he said with a chuckle, and the lass was caught off guard that he somehow implied that he actually considered her a friend, despite hardly knowing anything about each other.

Jim then went back at his rival, his mouth falling into a threatening scowl once more, and warned. "So you and your buds best get yourselves straight if you know what's coming at you, Ferd. Now get outta my face."

Chastened, Ferdinand stepped further away before turning his back on the two and fled, out of fear that he just might drive the human further into getting him kicked out of the academy with him. "Okay, I'm going! Geez!"

With that out of the way, the lad went back to the task at hand and resumed picking up the rest of the books on the floor. They kept at it in absolute silence until all of the books were back from the way they were on the cart, and the black-haired lass spoke. "I told you I can deal with their pack."

"You did say that," Jim laughed. "You actually handled the situation pretty well, better than what I probably had in mind."

She kidded back. "But I have to give you some credit for leading them on. You didn't do so bad there yourself, tenderfoot."

"Thanks," he laughed once more. It then dawned on him that now was probably the best time to talk about the little spat they had a couple of weeks ago. "Look, what I said about... you know, the pre-test thing? I didn't mean to—"

She quickly cut in and consoled. "I get it, though you didn't exactly deny that you wanted my help at the time."

"Yeah, I didn't..." he trailed off, realizing that he was wrong but just couldn't admit it. The girl helped him with the proficiency test, he didn't even need to ask what did he do? He lashed out on her and even invited trouble at her doorstep by engaging in a fistfight with Salle. Not to mention losing the opportunity of a few nights free dinner she was about to have. It only made him feel worse when he realized that he was the uninvited one in this whole fiasco, even if his intentions were made for good.

He wasn't getting any flak from her for this, but he could sense that the girl was already quite aware of what was going on, telling from the smug half-smiled look on her face, and Jim just conceded. "Alright, you win. I'm sorry that I was being a jerk. There, are you happy now?"

The girl hummed and pondered on his attempt at apologizing. "Could've been better but I guess it'll do. I accept your apology."

Seeing that there was nothing else left to do, and with what little time probably remaining for him to stay in the academy, he thought he might as well make the most of what he could before dragging himself on the way to Sgt. Boyd's office. "Since we got off at the wrong end, I think can now say that it's nice to finally meet you. I'm Jim," he introduced and held out his right hand to offer her a handshake.

The girl gladly took it and gave him a firm shake before letting go. "Lillian."

"Right. Well, whether I like it or not, I should be on my way to Boyd's then. So, I'll see you around?"

With the three strikes the lad got as what Ferdinand mentioned, she supposed that he definitely wouldn't be seeing anyone from the academy in a long time if ever he would get suspended from the place, but she disregarded the thought anyway and said. "More or less, sure. Why not?"

* * *

The walk to the Sgt. Boyd's office at the military barracks was tedious, with each step that Jim made only reminding him of what dread could be waiting for him there, and it only added up as he got closer. Morph hid back inside his pocket once he had arrived at the doorstep and, taking a deep breath, the lad swung the door in. Aside from the reclining sergeant whom he immediately saw upon entering, he wasn't counting on the sight of his economics professor, Biel Greyfeld, who was seated on one of the sergeant's guest chairs and apparently had been waiting for him as well.

"Prof. Greyfeld?"

"Mr. Hawkins!" the same soft-spoken middle-aged man greeted. "I suppose you are surprised to see me here."

"I am, sir. The barracks isn't exactly a short walk from the faculty block."

"Yes, well, I came here to bring up a very important matter to the sergeant, as well as discuss it thoroughly with you since it had something to do with your delinquency standing. So please, have a seat."

"Does it have anything to do the economics essay that I'm suspected to have plagiarized with?" he asked, taking the seat right in front of the professor.

"That's the very subject of our discussion, but let me start by saying that there's no reason for you to fret over that sticky situation now."

Jim breathed a heavy sigh. "I know. Since I already got my third strike, there's no sense in beating myself up over that anymore. So let's get this over with, when am I gonna get deported?"

"Third strike? Deported?" interjected Sgt. Boyd. "Where on St. Anglicus' did you get that idea from, boy?"

The lad was perplexed now. "... I was running in the halls. For that, I'm kinda responsible for the racket that Ferd's pals caused. That's what you called me in here for, right?"

Amused, the drill sergeant shook his head and chortled. "Well, yeah. Try running in the halls four more times and if I caught all of those in the act, then you're sure to get a strike from me."

The professor explained to the now even more confused teenager. "You have to be caught running in the halls five times before you're given a delinquency strike, Mr. Hawkins. That rule is not indicated in the school regulations but we still strictly abide by it."

"Wait, so that means I'm not gonna get expelled yet?"

"Running in the hallway is just a minor offense, lad. It happens all the time," the professor continued to enlighten. "But regarding your number of strikes, I found an interesting discovery that will help take a load off your chest, and I'll tell you now that it has something to do with your essay-related transgression."

"What is it?"

"Perfect timing to expose it to him, is it?" the officer jested.

"Yes, very perfect opportunity. So, a couple of days ago, I was about to clear out my trash bin when I noticed a balled-up piece of paper in it..." The professor then began recalling his account to the boy as he leafed through the paperwork in his satchel. "You will never guess what I found when I straightened it out."

"What did you find?"

Finding the document he needed, Prof. Greyfeld pulled it out from the stack and held it to the young student. "You can see for yourself."

Jim took it from his hand and immediately recognized the handwriting and his full name properly jotted at the very top of the page. At that moment, the lad felt like a lump got stuck in his throat and his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. "It's my essay," he gasped at the paper, all wrinkly and appeared to have been crumpled up like what the professor just said.

"I was actually surprised by the sight of it because it is not in-character for the academy's faculty to crumple paperwork of any form. Do you want know why?"

"Why?" asked his student. "I mean we do it all the time when we're throwing our stuff away."

"But for us faculty members, handling our paperwork is way different from how you students can do it. The academy has a protocol so we can't just dispose our documents willy-nilly. We are obligated to _shred them_ first before doing so."

The sergeant added. "It's a safety precaution, so any confidentiality from the academy reflecting in documents like that is still safe and preserved."

"And crumpling the documents will just make the job of shredding them more difficult than it already is," finalized the professor.

The lad, with his mouth agape still in disbelief, blinked at the information that had been shared with him. "Am I even allowed to hear any of this?"

Prof. Greyfeld laughed. "Of course, Mr. Hawkins. It's not a secret! We just don't see the need to inform you students of our part in the academy's policies."

Sgt. Boyd agreed with a nod. "So I'm not surprised that our students don't have an idea that this protocol exists, particularly the person behind Hawkins' whole essay set-up."

He then resumed with the topic of Jim's essay. "On the other hand, I can already tell that you've worked so hard on that from just skimming through the first page. It's a little unpresentable now but perhaps if you could just refresh it a bit and resubmit it to me until tomorrow, then I could make some reconsiderations and give you the proper grade that you deserve. Does that sound good to you?"

"O-Of course, sir. That'd be great," Jim stuttered a bit since everything was just coming at him all at once and was still too much for him to take in that he could barely believe that it was all actually happening.

"But how in the galaxy did your essay end up in my trash bin?" the instructor asked to move on to another topic. "Crumpled up into a ball and even switched with a plagiarized phony."

The student shrugged. "You're telling me. I don't have the faintest idea."

Cutting in, the drill sergeant supposed. "The closest reason I can think of is perhaps it had something to do with your ongoing business with Escamillo."

"I don't know..." he innocently shrugged. "What makes you think that?"

"Oh, come on!" he goaded. "You were just running away from him earlier, even mentioned something about it and told me that you two are trying to keep it under control."

"Maybe, but you just thought up that excuse all on your own for the most part," Jim denied and, upon remembering tape recorder in his pocket, he defended still. "And I _do_ still have it all under control, even if Ferd and his pals won't like how I'm gonna deal with it."

"... You're thinking that I'm just gonna have to take your word for it. Is that right?" the officer hesitantly brushed off. "Anyway, how are we going to find a lead on the culprit now, whose careless crime got close to kicking you out of the academy?"

He stuffed a hand in his pocket, feeling the metal chassis of his valuable handheld in his palm, realizing that he would have to hold onto it for a bit longer. "I honestly want to know who that person is, sir, but I just can't think up of anyone right now. But I know I'll get that chance one day, and when it comes to that, I'll be making sure that they _will_ 'fess everything up."

To conclude the lad's case, the drill sergeant let out a long breath through his nose. "In any case, you are still required to discuss what we've huddled on today with the student disciplinary tribunal. I'll set up an appointment for you tonight but I'll fill you in on the verdict right now: the whole essay situation is scrapped."

Jim thought aloud at his superior's account. "Wait, just so we're clear on this. Does that mean I'm still down to _one_ delinquency strike?"

"One and one-fifth in theory, to be precise," clarified the economics professor. "You are still, and absolutely, eligible to stay in the academy until you get your third. But do forbid that it will ever get to that point, hmm?"

The boy's eyes lit up at the two faculty members' good news and he felt stinging tears of joy beginning to well up beneath his eyelids. "Thank you, sir."

* * *

"Way to stick it to the man, Jim!" exclaimed Rainier in celebratory mood as he and his friends accompanied their roommate on his way to the administration building, right after the lad's meticulous meeting with the student tribunal.

Jim grinned and nodded back at his congratulatory words, still in disbelief of the news that he was actually off the hook from getting suspended (for now). "Yeah, but I need to get a fresh reel for this bad boy since I'll have the old one locked away for safekeeping. Here's to making sure that Ferd's gang won't even think of messing around with anyone again."

Walks around the academy didn't have much significance for him ever since he started attending his classes but just for tonight, it was definitely a huge exception. To him, it felt like the sky way above their heads, despite being so dark at the time, looked a bit higher than it usually was that it somehow made him a bit light on his feet, like a huge weight had been taken off from his shoulders. Figuratively, he could compare himself to his pink companion who was just near his hair: floating.

"First in the long line of many evidences to come: Exhibit A," concurred Dale with a jest.

"Yup. Those guys can complain all they want but man, those things sure are handy," noted the Cervid as he pointed to Jim's tape recorder. "I should get myself one of those."

"It's like the ultimate ace up your sleeve," Chris added.

"Sure is. Now all I have left to do is rewrite my essay for tomorrow," said Jim with a groan. "This is gonna be a drag."

The Loppytonian chuckled at his roommate's languor. "Well, it's way better than getting kicked out of the academy for sure."

Their chat went on until they had arrived at the steps of the administration, and Jim had to part ways with his friends once more. "So, I'll see you guys at the cafeteria then?"

"Yeah," Rainier affirmed. "But we'll be stopping by the dorms while we're at it. No need to rush yourself, man."

"Right. See you later," he said and dashed up the stairway. His pals waved back to him before turning around to leave for their own individual errands.

Jim first approached the receiving area in the lobby to make an entry on the guest book and to ask for directions to the dean's office. Once he was instructed of his route, the lad climbed another flight of stairs in order for him to reach the second floor where his destination was apparently located.

Arriving there, another hallway welcomed him and at the very end of it was the dean's office as pointed out to him. He then strode through the clean and carpeted floor, past wooden doors with name plaques affixed on them, appearing to be the rooms of the dean's co-department personnel, faculty members who were of higher rankings compared to his instructors' but still below the peak position in the institution's hierarchy, filled in by no other than Captain Amelia Smollett-Doppler herself and her associates.

He had soon reached her doorstep and when he was about to reach for the handle, someone already beat him to it and had swung the door in. Coming from inside was another student, a Felinid with long blond hair and appeared to be around Jim's age. Upon catching sight of her, Morph hurriedly hid inside his pocket and let the human interact with her alone.

"Oh! Hello!" she greeted in slight surprise, not expecting that someone was at the other side of the door. "I hope I hadn't kept you waiting long. I didn't know Captain Amelia still had an appointment at this very hour."

"Uh, no," he denied. "I'm just passing by, that's all."

"A visitor, I see. But I'm not surprised since I was also just _passing by_ here myself. So, what brings you to this place?" the girl questioned out of curiosity, with Jim taking a note of her accent as she spoke. It sounded similar to Amelia's, but thicker like the way how folks living around the Southwest spoke.

"Just thought that I might as well check up on an old friend of the family," he said simply.

She asked in beaming enthusiasm. "Really? You've been acquainted with the Doppler couple before?"

"So, Doc is in there, too, huh?" concluded Jim. "I knew as much but yeah, I've worked with them in a voyage they had together. What about you? What brings you here?"

"Well, I was kind of requested to stop by here this evening."

"Captain Amelia called you up?"

"Yes, but it's nothing major," she shrugged with a coy laugh. "Just a little chat to catch up on things, family and the like. You know how relatives can be sometimes."

"Relatives?" Jim repeated to ponder on what she was talking about and then a moment later, it finally hit him. "Wait a minute..."

She tittered at his baffled expression and offered him a handshake. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Aurora Mayflower, third-year student at the Royal Interstellar Academy and maternal niece of Captain Amelia."

"Jim Hawkins, and yeah, I've heard about you!" he said, gratefully returning her offer. "Cap mentioned that she has a niece studying here but I never thought that we'd personally meet. Wow, it's an honor to meet you."

"And it's likewise an honor to meet a friend of Auntie's," she said back before letting go of his hand. "Well, I should be on my way. I don't want to delay your meeting with the folks any longer."

"Not at all. It was a pleasure," he finalized with a salute just before the girl could walk away.

Bringing his attention to his initial task, Jim then went back at the door to Amelia's office and swung it open. Morph flew up in sight once more and the lad stepped inside. The sight of the dean and her Canid husband immediately welcomed him upon entering, and Jim somehow felt like he was back at home.

"Mr. Hawkins! I was not informed that you'd be dropping by this evening," spoke the captain who was seated in her office chair, going through the adequate amount of paperwork she had filed out on her desk. "Have a seat, please."

"Thanks," the boy said with a smile as he approached one of her guest chairs, with the pink blob settling on his shoulder. "I was on my way to ask Doc a favor. I thought that he might be around here at a time like this, so I might as well check up on both of you while I'm at it."

"We're splendid, lad. And clever thinking at that," she applauded.

"But how did you know that I'm in Amelia's office right now?" asked the bedazzled doctorate-earned man who stood near his wife.

"From intuition, I guess. I thought you looked like someone that I should know very well, Doc," chuckled Jim, with Morph taking the form of plump lips making smacking sounds earning them an amused smirk from Amelia.

Her husband, however, was abashed by the statement and just went to move past it with a clearing of his throat. "Anyway, what did you want me to help you with, Jim?"

"Oh, right. I was just thinking if I could have another reel of blank recording tape."

"Well, you sure are working on your note-taking to a new extreme, aren't you?" Delbert complimented. "I was expecting for a reel to last about two months but you sure flew in way earlier than I thought."

"I guess I've been doing double of what I'm supposed to 'cause of the unwanted stuff that's been coming out of nowhere."

"Ah, I know of the major disagreement you've had with Senator Escamillo's son a while back. I heard that it got you into deep trouble, but that's all I caught from the talks within the faculty. Perhaps it was that incident that made catching up with your academics a bit difficult for you?"

"It sure did. Speaking of academics, how come I don't get to see you around much, Doc? I thought I'd be hearing more from you now that we're always in the same place."

Delbert let out a small chuckle. "I teach astrophysics, Jim. It's far too advanced and possibly way early for your age group to tackle. Most likely when you've reached your senior year, that's when you'll be seeing more of me."

"That's great! But I'm not so sure about the subject on the other hand..."

"Oh, you'll come to love it eventually, Jim. If you're still not interested in astrophysics by the midterm, then I'll just have to make you!" he kidded.

Laughter filled the room and once Jim's had subsided, the lad then stood up from his seat and stuffed his hands inside his pockets. "Well, since I don't have anything else left to do here, I guess I should be on my way now. Still have an essay to rewrite for tomorrow, you know."

"Just drop by my office tomorrow for the new recording tape, Jim. I'll make sure to be there during my consultation hours."

"Right. Thanks, Doc," Jim said with a salute before turning his back to the couple.

"Bye-bye!" chirped Morph before whizzing away with the teenager.

When the boy and his blob were finally out of sight and the two had the room for themselves once more, Amelia suddenly brought up to her husband what she was reading through a document in her hands. "Apparently, he just had a hearing with the student tribunal about an hour ago. It says so here in their report that B.E.N. had delivered to me some minutes recently."

"Oh?" he replied in surprise at the news. "What is it about?"

"I suppose you haven't heard of his second offense on an essay that he committed plagiarism on several days ago?"

"Why, no! I have no idea of that one!"

"Well, he had been cleared of that by the student tribunal today. It appears someone tried to sabotage him by switching his original submission with another that had taken out passages directly from one of our prized textbooks. But the case isn't closed since they still haven't found out who the original culprit is."

He ruffed in frustration. "I wish we can know who the perpetrator is in the soonest possible time. Their contemptuous crime made quite a close shave for our young Montressor child."

"I have faith in Mr. Hawkins, Delbert. I never had a doubt when I deemed a child acceptable to this prestigious academy. After all, I have an honor code to uphold for this institution, and what better way to do that than keeping an eye out for the select few who would firmly establish this place."

"And Jim is one of them, apparently. I'm astounded by how you could see his character condemnable, ah, commendable despite all that," he stuttered.

"I did mention something about that before which perfectly describes him. I just can't quite recall what it was..."

Delbert looked up to the ceiling like he was consulting his thoughts and hummed. "I believe you said something like 'unorthodox but ludicrously effective', dear."

"Yes, exactly!" Amelia exclaimed then added in a more concerned tone. "But he's still on his first delinquency strike though. Hopefully, he won't come to his third or else, his mother won't be too happy once she has gotten word of it."

Her husband added. "And the most difficult part is, as the dean, you're the one obligated to report _everything_ to her."

She rolled her eyes at the exasperating thought and sighed. "I know. You didn't have to remind me."

Her silly expression made him laugh once more and he lightly draped a hand on her shoulder. "I'll leave you to your paperwork then. See you in the morning."

"Rest easy, dear," she bid and softly squeezed his hand back for one long second before it could slide off of her uniform. As the Canid began his walk out of her office, Amelia folded up Jim's trial report and moved on to an envelope that had caught her eye.

The lettering at the upper left-hand corner read the address of Royal Navy's Grand Council and in the middle, there was no doubt that the mail was directly addressed to her. She shrugged as she ripped through the Navy's rubber seal which kept the envelope closed before pulling out the piece of paper it contained. A formal letter, which said something along the lines of an emergency meeting in about a couple of weeks' time.

As someone working independently from her employers, Amelia couldn't care less of the council's bureaucratic matters like what the letter indicated the meeting was for, and was about to discard it until her eyes had reached the bottom of the page: they additionally invited her for further questioning, in relation to the severe damages that had been made on the RLS Legacy from her last voyage, the undisclosed trip to Flint's trove.


	14. Rock Bottom

**XIII. Rock Bottom**

* * *

Things seemed to have gone back to normal for the young lad now that he's back to just one (and one-fifth) delinquency strike. Now all Jim had to do was to make sure that he won't get to his third. Better yet, even avoid getting to his second while he's at it.

It was like being given another chance at life. More accurately, another chance at life in the academy, and he was going to make sure that nothing would get in his way this time around. He was even surer of it now that he has a trump card to keep meddling schoolmates in their own lane, particularly Ferdinand and his clique. With those in mind, perhaps Jim would be sticking around a lot longer than he thought, and that meant he would be hearing more of...

"Come on, you maggots! Pick up the pace!"

Hearing the drill sergeant's ever-daunting voice got the teenager snapping back to his senses and finish up detaching his safety harness from the first-tier climbing wall's anchor rope. Making his way to the second tier, Jim hooked his belaying rope's carabiner to his next anchor line and tugged on it a couple of times for safety before stepping on the first wall protrusion on his way up. Saturdays, he timidly grumbled to himself out loud.

A dissatisfied Sgt. Boyd shook his head of how sluggish his young subordinates were and he badgered as he hovered near them on his rescue boat. "Your ship's artificial gravity went bust and you don't even know how to climb back onto your ship?! You can't just hang around on your lifelines for that, you have to pull yourselves back onboard with it!"

True enough, the day's drill was exactly how it was for Jim when he was on the RLS Legacy, holding onto his own lifeline while tying down some of the ship's sails during a supernova storm. All he had was his lone lifeline, similar in purpose to the anchor cable provided to them for their drills. He could say that what he was dealing with at the moment was way easy compared to the real deal, where there were no belaying cables to put the brakes on his fall nor auxiliary lines so his shipmates could hold him back, and yet he was able to handle the situation so well on his own back then.

His knowledge on managing the ropes also got him to save John Silver from a ghastly fall when he was briefly thrown off by a colliding rock, quickly pulling back the old pirate onboard with his lifeline. It didn't help that they got thrashed around later by a couple of magillas when the supernova had transformed into a black hole. Adding to the difficulty in that situation was being given the responsibility of securing the entire crew's lifelines as well as his own, right before the last and biggest wave could hit. With Jim's skill, he was able to keep the crew held back on the deck, save for Mr. Arrow who was lost in that very storm.

But Jim soon felt a bit of relief upon realizing that the first officer's death wasn't because of his undoing, right when Silver had exposed who the prime suspect was, and it was none other than the spider-psycho Scroop himself. This concluded the fact that Jim had actually done a decent job, for almost half of the crew would've been spinning into the black abyss if he hadn't, like how Silver once directly put it.

Midway at the first tier and to the far left of the wall were the four cadets with their respective health concerns, only allowed to climb two levels instead of three which the rest of the class were required to do. At the very end of their group was the blond Dale who was cursing under his breath since he had never gone rock climbing before in his entire life. He wasn't particularly afraid of heights, but the laboriousness of the activity got him pulling out his inhaler from his pocket constantly.

After clambering through many rock protrusions later, the lad had soon reached the second tier, unhooked his harness from the first anchor rope and stopped on the platform to catch his breath. For the last wall that they had to climb, the cadets were instructed to pair up with another student to hold onto each other's auxiliary belaying cable, and Dale had never been more thankful for that part. All he had to do was find a partner for his last tier.

"Need some help there, buddy?" spoke a voice behind him.

He then turned around to see who it was: the same otter girl who had a special health concern of her own. Her short brown hair swayed with the wind as she waited for him at the foot of the wall, with her deep feminine voice adding to her boyish charm. Dale still didn't know why she had to submit a medical excuse as he did when she was in fact doing so well in their Saturday drills all along.

Shaking the thought aside, Dale walked to her and gave his auxiliary rope which she then clasped to her anchor cable with her belayer. He then proceeded to do the same and before they could take the first step up, the lad had caught sight of what was printed on her nametag and made a mental note to himself of what was supposedly her name: 'Khandar, J.'

Meanwhile near the end of the first tier, Rainier was taking double takes up and down on his anchor line to make sure his antlers weren't caught while going up. As expected, this would catch Sgt. Boyd's unyielding attention, with the man's all-seeing eye criticizing the lad's slow-escalating activity.

"Double time, Trelawney! Move up to the next tier already!"

The Cervid corrected. "Actually, it's Mason-Trelawney, sir..."

Not even slightly amused, he brushed off the lad's protest and huffed. "We ain't got time for that, boy! And quit looking around, for goodness sake! With all that head tilting, it's no wonder why you always get your antlers snagged in your anchor. Just look up so your horns won't keep hitting your ropes!"

"Right," he said with a thoughtful nod before immediately resuming his climb up. "Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!"

With that, the officer left the young cadet to do his thing and went on to reprimand another handful of students, all the while giving them some supplemental pointers that would help with the improvement of their performances. Glancing near the end of the second tier, he saw yet another unsatisfactory execution from one of his underlings. This time, it was the young and unconventional Jim Hawkins.

"Get your keister up there, Hawkins!" he called as he floated near the lad. "Don't make me go drag it there myself!"

"Yes, sir!" he replied half-absentmindedly and when he realized how wrong that probably sounded, he was keen to take his words back. "I mean no, sir! That won't be necessary, sir!"

"Then get a move on, boy!" he reminded while slowly inching away. "You're burning daylight!"

When he was about to open his mouth to respond, it then occurred to the lad that there was no longer the need for it since the drill sergeant had already gone out of sight, most likely so he could get at another cadet. Amused, a faint smile appeared on Jim's face before shaking his head of the thought and moving on to his final tier.

Nimble as he was, Morph popped up from Jim's pocket to make a silly impersonation of the officer once more, this time in a small boat similar to the one he was on. The lad chuckled. "Yeah, I know. We're gonna have to move on."

Stepping up at the platform, the pink blob flew back in to hide and Jim unhooked his harness from the anchor rope one last time (on his way up at least) and saw two pairs of cadets already paired up for the final tier, one of which was a team composed of Kate and Ferdinand.

"Hey, guys," Jim greeted while taking his belay carabiner to the next anchor line. "Hope you don't mind if I tag along."

"Not at all," answered the platypus-like lad who stood closer, being a lot more cautious with the human teen this time around. "As long as you won't get in our way."

"Of course not, Ferd. When have I _ever_ done that?" he taunted with a chuckle, hoping that Ferdinand would take the hint.

And he did, then pointed a warning finger to his rival upon recall. "Oh, no. I'm not gonna let you do another show like what you did in our solar surfer exhibit. You hear?"

"Wasn't even planning it," he shrugged and added. "Besides, I don't want anyone else getting caught into any of that."

"And good of you to count me out from your hooliganisms," the red-head interjected who was about done clasping Ferdinand's auxiliary cable to her anchor rope. "Now if you'd be so kind to drop these banters of yours. I have a wall to climb."

"Sure, go on right ahead," agreed Jim. While Kate was doing last-minute inspections on her safety equipment, the brown-haired lad did preparations of his own and had his harness locked in once more to his anchor.

The pair then began their way up the wall, taking short pauses to make sure they weren't tugging on each other's auxiliary ropes. What Kate didn't expect was that Jim had already gone ahead and began climbing up the wall without accompaniment. Quite peeved of the fact that he wasn't following instructions, she reproached. "Jim, we are told to pair up with another student at the last tier. Have you perhaps lost your marbles?"

Jim chuckled. "Dunno, but I guess it's because I already had enough chances of checking on lifelines in my time to know what I'm doing. And it's not a requirement anyway so yeah, I think I could do better on my own."

"The whole point of it was to have someone hold onto your auxiliary line, all for the sake of your own safety."

"I already have my belaying rope, don't I? That makes me, what, a hundred times more secure than the standard safety lifelines of a solar galleon."

Ferdinand cooed at the human. "So, you think you know better than the admiral's daughter?"

"I wouldn't put it that way but I guess so," Jim admitted much to Kate's slight surprise. "I really do know how to go through all of this on my own."

"Challenging someone from the top, it looks like," he continued. "This could also be a direct call out to Admiral Blake, you know. For pegging down Kate like that who's practically training to become like her dad all this time."

Although she knew better than not to take Ferdinand's words seriously, Kate couldn't help but be moved in a way. She was already aware of the human's indifference to her reputation stemming from her father's political career, but she never thought that he would openly demean it.

This came off to Kate as a provocation of her credibility, that a run-of-the-mill rookie like Jim could prove to surpass her, whose entire upbringing was founded on becoming something like what her father had established himself: insurmountable. And that was what bothered her the most, like her efforts made all that time to uphold her image were just all in vain.

She was still able to keep her cool despite all that though, but what followed their conversation soon was what finally pushed her to the deep end.

"Look, I'm just trying to prove a point that I can handle this stuff better by myself, okay? And my dad didn't need to be some high-ranking officer for me to do it. Heck, he didn't have to be _anything_ actually," Jim grumbled in protest, getting tired of Ferdinand's pestering.

And that was the last straw.

"Then you're saying you could have a nobody for a poor excuse of a dad and you're still hardheaded enough to climb this wall on your own. Is that right?" said the senator's son.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but you sure got that one out right," he replied, caught off guard by how unexpectedly spot-on his statement was.

After a moment of staying put in absolute silence, Kate quickly unclasped Ferdinand's auxiliary cable from her anchor line, allowing it to swing back to its owner. She then pulled out her own auxiliary line from her harness and also left it to the platypus-like teen's care before hastily moving up to leave the two boys behind in the dust.

"Kate!" cried Ferdinand in great surprise. "Come back! You're supposed to be my climbing partner!"

Jim shrugged who resumed to move one step up from his rival. "Hey, don't look at me. You're the annoying one with the banters."

Persistent, Ferdinand called out to his partner once more and even waved a hand around to get her attention, only for the Leonid to completely ignore his pleas and move on to the next couple of steps before her. "Great. Just how in Kinapis am I gonna get a move on now?" he grumbled, quite worried if he could finish the rest of the day's drill now that he had to do it without his initial partner.

"But I thought you could do well on your own, even without her help. Your parent's a politician, too, so what's your excuse?" he sneered.

The platypus lad fumed at how his rival threw his arguments back to him. "Oh, ha-ha. Yack it all up in my face, why don't you?"

"Well, you could just wait for the next cadet to reach this tier," suggested Jim. "But I doubt they'll want to team up with you though since they should already have someone by now. If you want, I guess I can squeeze yours in with my belayer to help you out."

"Wait, you're teaming up with me?" he asked in disbelief.

He cringed. "Heck, no. I'm not letting you get your sticky hands on my aux cable, but I can help you get all the way up there. Don't worry, I won't have plans of dropping your line," he swore with an open hand raised.

"And what makes you think I should trust you, of all people, with my rope?"

"'Cause I'm gonna get in trouble if I let something like that happen. One way to get back at me with a delinquency strike, right?"

"Good point. And if I _made_ you drop my auxiliary cord?"

"Well, there's that 'counterweight' I have to make sure you and your pals won't misbehave. I think we both know what that is," Jim reminded.

"Why, you sneaky little..." Ferdinand gritted through his teeth bitterly, knowing exactly what he meant.

"For me, I'll just get a strike two for getting suspected of being careless, that's for sure. But in your case, I think Salle just jumped the line back there for you guys to get any delinquency strikes at all..."

He huffed at the lad's taunts. "I get it, yeah. No thanks to you for reminding me."

"Well, you better think fast if you don't want Boyd coming around to hound at us both for not moving," he pressed.

"... Then just get me up there and shut your pie hole along the way," he conceded, considering to let the whole thing slide this once just so he could be done with the day's military drill. He then threw his auxiliary rope's carabiner to Jim who promptly caught it in his hand.

Attaching the line to his anchor, the brown-haired lad mock-saluted. "You're welcome."

And without another word, the two resumed their trek up the wall following at a distance behind Kate who was only several feet away from the end. She was drawing near her goal with each heave she took but at the same time, her mind was taking steps in assessing the rationality of her actions a while back, about how peculiarly out-of-character it was for her to distance herself from an irking conversation without even saying anything like what she just did.

It then dawned on her that it was perhaps her aggravation that had began building up from more than just one thing, and it was already nagging at her. Reason number one: what Jim mentioned just directly placed the tagline that statuses had nothing to do with anything, like with their performances in the military drill they were having at the moment. Of course she was already aware that the lad had some sort of potential, but... _'Could he really outclass me, someone who's been exposed to the ways of the Navy at a very early age?'_ she thought.

Reason number two: she wondered what his whole point of disobeying Sgt. Boyd's instructions was. Was it to prove his statement from the previous reason? Was it simply an expression of his skills? Or perhaps it was just to show off his abilities. But she admitted, what's the point in showing off if she's not even a bit interested for being flaunted at?

Or maybe because he wanted to get back at Ferdinand, which could actually be the one viable excuse. Regardless of what Jim really had in mind, Kate was only sure of one thing: defying protocol would make him no different from a crook running away from the law.

Reason number three: and the worst part was that she had just invited herself into the same situation he's in, traversing the rest of the final tier without anyone accompanying her, or even a wit or two. She was aware that she simply did it since the conversation was just becoming too much for her to bear. But assessing the situation even more, she had finally come to terms that she might've went overboard when she had finally lost her composure, _all because of the pressure from some guy who thought he could prove to be just as good as her._

"What am I even doing?" she spat under her breath, her mind cleared and now concerned of how she would be able to drag herself out of the situation she got into. "I shouldn't even be worked up on something like... like this!"

The red-head heaved a foot on a rock protrusion with a frustrated huff. She wasn't paying as much attention to what she had stepped on compared to how badly she wanted her issues resolved, and when she was about to pull herself up, she had lost her footing and the sole of her boot slipped. She quickly held onto the ascender on her anchor line which brought her dangling in midair through her belaying rope, in absolute shock of her mishap.

"Kate!" Ferdinand and Jim yelled almost simultaneously, catching a glimpse of her unanticipated fall. Even Jim's little pink blob was startled and wanted to peek at what was happening from inside his pocket.

The girl was unfaltering still, catching her breath and deciding to hoist herself back on the wall by jumping back to it, but with little success. Now falling back a bit farther from her initial position, Kate now felt a certain pain from her left foot. A dislocated ankle joint it seemed, coming from another wrong footing on her last attempt.

Seeing his classmate in distress, Jim was quick to move up the steps and Ferdinand took the hint of his hurry right away, so the two of them could be near enough to come to Kate's aid.

Closing in on the lass, Ferdinand was the one to offer first. "Hey! Come on. Team up with me again. We can still get ourselves up there, you know."

"Yeah, you should probably head on back to Ferd to help you out," Jim suggested upon leveling himself with the red-head. "Or you could trust me with your auxiliary line. That works, too."

The platypus-like teen jumped in protest of the idea. "What? There's already two of us relying on your anchor cable for safety! You seriously think it can take the weight of yet another person?!"

"I already know the risk of overloading my anchor line, dude. I'm just saying that I'm still willing to help out even if that's the case," he informed.

"Kate was right. You _are_ out of your mind!"

"Come on, Kate," the lad pushed on, his confident smile attempting to ease through the sense of dread written all over the girl's face. "We're finishing this."

Although the lass knew that their intentions were good, the sight of the brown-haired lad reminded her of the current predicament once more. He was the whole reason why she was getting so worked up in the first place and it would be a waste to not take the opportunity to finish the job while she's at it. When she had gained a new insight, Kate was now determined to attest that she could also do whatever it was the lad was trying to prove.

In the end, the boys' invitations weren't enough to change her mind and with a stubborn grunt, she hoisted herself up again and obtained a position back on the wall. She then continued her climb, in the same quick pace as before and now unwavering this time from her new-found resolve.

All the boys could do, with both their offers of assistance rejected, was watch Kate gain the upper hand once more and just shrug it all off like nothing just happened. "Well, so much for helping out," a disheartened Ferdinand commented which his companion gave a curt nod to.

* * *

Soon, the pair was around the end of the wall and saw that Kate was about to rappel back to ground zero, one tier at a time. Inching down, she made sure to not put much weight on her left foot, all the while maintaining a straight face despite the brief twinges she would get as she lowered herself down.

Climbing a few more steps up and it was then Ferdinand and Jim's turn for the act. Before he could return the platypus lad's auxiliary cord to its owner, Jim asked in precaution. "You already have your belaying rope hooked to your anchor line, right?"

Ferdinand scoffed. "Of course I know how to attach a carabiner to my ascender. I'm not stupid to not know that I've already done it earlier!"

"Okay..." He unhooked Ferdinand's cable from his anchor rope and swung it back to him. He then grabbed onto his rope and ascender, and before taking his first leap down, he winked. "Race ya."

The lad breathed as he shook his head. "Oh, you're on," he said as he took the first several steps below.

One grueling step after another, Kate rappelled all the way back to the third tier's platform, then to the second tier's and lastly to the first with the rest of the cadets left way behind. Upon stepping back on the solid earth, a wave of relief rushed to the Leonid as she staggered away and the drill sergeant was quick on his boat to receive her at the finish.

"What happened back there, Blake?" was the first set of words to come out of his mouth, confounded with the young student's immensely questionable performance. "Disregarding protocol and what, that slipup could've done a number on you. Thank the stars it just got you pumped on a foot!"

"My apologies, sir," she said with her head hung low to the superior officer in front of her. "I'm aware that I've placed myself in danger because of my reckless insubordination."

"It isn't quite like you to not go around the rules, cadet. Are you sure your head's in the right place?"

"I'm fine, sir. I suppose I can blame the loss of concentration on my part. I may have been getting a lot of my schoolwork done lately."

"It figures," he breathed and scratched the back of his head. "Don't push yourself to the edge, Blake. Your father maybe an admiral in the Navy, but to know that his child is getting overworked to death? It's not in my place to say but I'll say it anyway. He won't be necessarily pleased to know what you've been up to, young lass."

Kate sighed. "I know, sir."

Before he could turn his back to her, he lectured. "Know to hold back to your limits next time, Blake. You're dismissed, and have that thing checked in the infirmary."

The girl straightened up her posture and saluted to the officer who was keen to move on to call out another student going through his course. The man didn't stick around for too long to notice that Jim and Ferdinand were fast approaching from behind, rushing to Kate to check on her.

"Hey, Kate!" Jim called. "Are you alri—?!"

Just when he had come face-to-face with her, and all he knew was that all of a sudden, he was grabbed by the Leonid on the collar of his shirt. He was received by fuming huffs from her nose and the sight of an evidently seething scowl on her face. With Jim pulled close, his confused blue eyes met her glaring light browns which shone so fierce like a pair of bright ambers, especially with the light from the sun reflecting off of them.

For a moment, they stayed like that and all Jim and Ferdinand could do was wonder what Kate was so riled up with. In the end, the lass just shut her eyes closed to calm down and allowed herself to resume with her normal breathing. Her steady eyes sprung wide open once more and her hands soon loosened her grip on Jim's shirt, letting the human slightly stumble behind before turning her back to him.

While she walked away, the brown-haired lad was quick to notice that she was quite limping on one foot and was about to bring the fact to Ferdinand's attention until they were interrupted by the drill sergeant's presence who went to receive them.

"Tsk, playing around with the rules as always. Aren't we, Hawkins?" the superior officer immediately brought up.

Sheepishly scratching the back of his head, Jim answered with a sly grin. "You won't expect anything else from me, sir."

"But I can't say that you did poorly either since you actually handled the entire drill very well individually." He then turned to the other cadet and spoke in a warmer tone. "And I see Escamillo did just as fair under your care, a rather unexpected but quite practical move."

"Thank you," Jim said with a chuckle, amused by how the compliment accurately paralleled with the one Amelia gave him on their escape from an exploding planet.

Ferdinand then interjected as to make sure that he wasn't getting left out. "And I did pretty well back there myself, sir. I was able to comply teaming up with Hawkins despite what's been going on with the two of us."

The dark-skinned man agreed. "Well, yeah! With that show, you two sure had me convinced that you really are working on your beef together. It'd be best if you kids will keep that up."

"I... know that it's for the best, sir," assured Ferdinand half-heartedly.

"And I'll... do what I can to make sure of that," Jim added on the other hand, with the thought of his trusty 'counterweight'.

"Very well, you two are dismissed," he ordered with the pair saluting to him before he could leave. With the drill sergeant gone, Ferdinand turned to the other cadet to speak to him.

"Hey," he timidly began. "I guess I should say 'thanks' for the... you know..."

Jim bluntly spilled out his thoughts. "Hey, I only did it to fill in for Kate, but if the shoe fits, right?"

Not sure of what to say in return, Ferdinand just simply muttered "Whatever" as he brushed past him, bumping the lad by the shoulder. With the infallible assistance offered to him earlier, he somehow saw Jim in a different light, but not quite enough for him to have the guy cleared from being considered his sworn enemy.


	15. Back and Forth

**XIV. Back and Forth**

* * *

On a bench at one of the infirmary's hallways waited the three roommates coming in fresh from their military drills. Their forth comrade, Dale, was having his medical check-up at the moment which he routinely took after every drill session. It usually didn't take up much time, and the lad would just pop out from the physician's office in a flash of a few minutes. But this week's visit was slightly different, observing from the additional brown bag he held onto on his way out.

Chris was able to point it out first. "What's that, man?"

"Nothing big," Dale snorted and took out what seemed to be an aluminum spread of about a couple of days' worth of tablets and a small rectangular box from it. "Just some supplementary medicine for my breathing condition but don't you worry. My dad prescribes this to me all the time."

"And what's the other thing?" Jim pointed when the separate box distracted him from playing around with Morph.

"It's a new solution cartridge for my inhaler. I think it's about time I have mine changed and refilled, especially after today's exceptionally arduous activity."

"You guys should've seen how he always had the thing stuck on his face," Rainier brought up and suggested. "Had I known that you were afraid of heights, I could've told old man Boyd about it and you would've been exempted from today's drills."

"I don't have acrophobia, Rainier. I just can't stand the labor of having to climb all the way up," the blond denied before retaliating. "But I guess the same should be said to you, for looking up and down the wall like there's no tomorrow."

"Hey! I don't have that acro... thing-you-just-said either! Could I help it if my antlers were getting snarled in my anchoring rope all the dang time? And Boyd even had to help pull me out of them by the time I'm at the third level!"

Jim shook his head of the embarrassing situation, lowly snickering as did the rest of his pals. "Tough luck there."

"Yeah, that scenario's gonna be stuck in my head for the rest of the week," said the Loppytonian, his chuckles subsiding, and later stood up from his seat. "Well, should I say that our business here is already done, Dale?"

He nodded with a grin. "Yup. Time to head on back to the dorms."

"Great," Rainier wearily groaned. "Finally, I could really use a nice hot shower right now."

The idea of a refreshing bath after a series of sweltering hard work was indeed quite inviting, and Jim just found himself being pulled in. "Ugh. Me, too."

Agreeing with the thought, the other two cadets seconded. "Me three."

"Me four."

"Me five!" squeaked the little pink blob.

The four then made their way back to the receiving counter. As Dale went to pay for his prescriptions, an adjacent door from the nurse's station swung open and out came the red-haired Kate, hobbling as she closed the door behind her, causing the hovering shape shifter to hide in Jim's pocket once more.

Beneath one of her arms was a walking crutch made of wood and steel, labelled as property of the academy's health services. Tilting their heads down, they were met by a rolled-up pants leg and a badly bruised foot peeking beneath strips of white binding cloth, slightly raised to her back from the ground. An ice pack was pressed on her ankle which dripped along the polished hallway floor as she walked.

"Gentlemen," she greeted.

Jim gawked in surprise at the sight, in disbelief that Kate was actually injured the whole time since she parted from him earlier. "Woah, Kate... I didn't know—"

"I'm fine, Jim," cutting his sentence short, she said and blew on the short strands of loose hair beginning to pile up on her forehead in annoyance. "Reminding me of it won't make me feel any better so just save your breath."

"Oh... Okay," he hesitantly complied, thinking that he should just go along with what she said to not aggravate things.

"Well, I should be getting a move on," she excused and treaded past her schoolmates. "I have to go back to my dorm room fast."

"Hey," Rainier spoke up. "Since we're headed to the dorms anyway, why don't you join us? A little company would help you take a load off your feet, but don't fret. We won't leave you behind, and you won't even notice that we've already reached your pad in no time, with us along to take your mind off it."

She shook her head. "No, you don't understand. I'm only dropping by to get some things since my parents always expect me to be home for the weekends. Someone will be picking me up by the main gate at ten o'clock but I'm running really late because of..."

She paused to catch her breath, only to see that the guys were all listening in to her rant from out of nowhere, demanding that she tell them the whole deal which meant it would take up more of her time. With a long sigh, she just conceded and resumed with her reason. "... I wasn't expecting a visit to the infirmary and sauntering all the way to my room will take a while in my condition," she explained, referring to her aching foot.

"... Well, that's perfect then!" the Cervid squealed with a snap of his fingers much to Kate's confusion. "We can assist with your luggage and even help you move around so you can still reach the main gate at ten, right on the dot."

A finger ran across Jim's lips in thought, getting familiar vibes from when he first met the red-haired girl when she helped him get around the place. "Well, since we've nothing else to do, I guess it won't be so bad to help out while we're at it. So, what'll you be taking with you?"

"Just two bags that I've already prepared last night," she answered. "But really, there's no need for you lot to be fussing about this..."

"Yeah, we're definitely settled with that," the lad lit up, completely disregarding her objection. "Chris and Rainier can handle your bags while Dale and I can help you out with your foot."

Dale, upon regrouping with his roommates, peeped from behind them. "But that doesn't answer the question on _how_ we're going to assist Miss Blake get around the campus quicker."

With another thought, he instructed Kate to hold onto his arm as he took her crutch away from her. He then handed the long prop to his blond roommate. "Here. Mind holding onto this for me?"

Even more confused, the red-head asked. "How will I get to walk without that then?"

"You won't be walking with it 'cause I'm giving you a lift," he informed, the thought making Kate's cheeks glow red. "I figured we can get you to your dorm room and to the main entrance faster that way."

"A-Are you serious!?" she exclaimed, her eyes nervously scanning around the room. "I mean you do realize that people might get the wrong idea when they see how we are and... you know how people talk."

"I wouldn't worry about that," Jim assured easily. "The guys and I are all just lending you a hand, and it just so happens that I'm the one who'll be carrying you."

"But... we're not that well-acquainted to even consider doing anything like _that_."

"Well, we're not but does it matter?" he quizzed, still not changing his mind. "Everyone will take the hint anyway when they've noticed the thing that's going on with your foot."

Kate groaned and rolled her eyes. And from there, she thought she wouldn't be seeing anymore of the chap for the rest of the day, who was in a way the reason why she was hurting at the moment. Yet there he was, proffering some sort of assistance just when she needed it, and with his pals even.

The lass thought that she might as well take it to have him make up for her injury (even if he had no clue nor had anything to do with it). Although she was expecting that someone else would be helping her out, she'd rather go with Jim's suggestion since she knew him more if not better than the rest of his clique. But still, the unnerving thought got her all flustered and it made her cheeks burn.

Kate then saw him hold out a hand to her like he was requesting for her reluctant reply. "So, what do you say?"

* * *

"Comment on my weight and I'm never speaking to you again," she warned on Jim's back, her hands draped on his shoulders and his hands lifting her up beneath her knees.

The lad laughed and humored her on this. "Don't be like that, Kate. We still have a lit project to do."

"That's true," agreed the pangolin lad who walked beside Jim while carrying Kate's walking crutch, taking Jim's words quite seriously. "It would be difficult to finish through the writing exercises without some sort of communication. It's a team effort after all."

"But in all honesty, Kate. You're actually kinda light so there's really no need for you to be embarrassed about it."

It must've been all the schoolwork, she thought. No matter what her meals were, she could never put on much weight because she was always moving around, always on the go with all the tasks she had to go through each day. It didn't help that even after the effort she put into her studies, there was going to be someone who would measure up to her skills. And this someone, of all people, was this unconventional novice who was carrying her on his back. He was a nonconformist and a mischief-maker, two traits that irked her a lot and they happened to be ultimately endowed into just one person.

The lad continued to speak. "Now I know why you're fuming at me earlier, with the broken ankle and all. I thought it might've been something else."

"I'm just obviously upset, that's all," she half-lied, knowing that her current state was only part of the whole reason why she was so ticked off. She was particularly upset about his words earlier but decided not to bring it up since they weren't at all familiar with each other, at the point when they could talk about anything personal. Not in the moment, at least.

"I know what you mean. Having an injury sucks," he spat.

Rainier, who was carrying Kate's knapsack with her schoolwork in it, cut in. "Yeah. I mean have I already told you the time when Chris broke an arm in freshman year?"

"Nope, but I kinda wanna hear about it now."

"Oh, man. I remember that so well," the Loppytonian hummed reminiscently.

"So, it was during physical ed, right? And we were taking on a relay around the track..."

As the boys chattered on, Kate preferred not joining in on their discussion and did a mental observation of them on her own. She noted of how the black-haired Cervid, Rainier as what he was called by his colleagues was the more people-person type which came off as overwhelming at times, and was the one who called the shots among his roommates. Like in a Navy fleet, he was someone who would most likely be an expert in relations and no one did that part better than the first officer of a ship.

The Loppytonian Chris, on the other hand, was more of the reserved type, barely uttering a word unless he needed to whilst carrying her laundry bag. Yet he was kind, even offering her a purp earlier which she politely turned down. She figured that he might be suitable for more a hands-on job if ever he would work in a flotilla. Better yet, even take up a position in a war sloop since Sgt. Boyd implied to have seen great potential in him.

Dale, the blond pangolin-like teen, was the most cautious of them all. Due to his sensitive nature, he wouldn't be fitting quite well in a laborious job description in his situation. A good reason why her crutch was the only thing he chose to hold on to. He did, however, know how to manage his meds and stock up on snacks (which was exclusively trail mix that his pals kept moaning about). He was the most conventional of the lot, making sure that everyone was alright with their load and even reminded Kate of several things which she might need. He was practical, she could say that.

Then there was Jim. All she had to remark about him was that the guy literally had a mind of his own. When he had finally come to a decision, it was nearly impossible to dissuade him from pursuing it. Most of the time, his actions would put him in some sort of trouble but eventually, the lad would still manage to steer himself out of it. She then realize that they were somehow the same. They were both stubborn in their own way but for what separate intents they might have for having that trait, she only knew that hers was all for her sake.

The lad may be kind of a delinquent but he definitely had an interesting choice friends, she thought. Quite a contrast from Ferdinand's aggressive bunch. With that in mind, she could tell that for someone to have such good-natured peers around him, it was inaccurate to say that Jim was a bad person. But there was still one thing that was nagging in her mind.

"I still don't see the logic in not following Sgt. Boyd's protocol," she thought about him out loud, slightly embarrassed that she had unintentionally interrupted the four's little confab.

Jim peeked to her over his shoulder. "It's just as I said, I already had an idea of what I'm doing. I had to keep moving up if I don't want to catch Boyd's attention and since no one was teaming up with me any time soon, I'd be better off finishing the drill on my own."

She hummed disapprovingly. "And I suppose that didn't get you in deep trouble with Sgt. Boyd?"

"Not at all. If anything, he actually got to say something nice about what I just did."

Chris questioned. "Well, what _did_ he say, Jim?"

"Something about being unexpectedly practical. I can't remember the rest of it but I sure got him convinced that I've been working things out with Ferd," he smirked.

"Now that won't be such a bad idea, innit?" Rainier commented. "Play along well with ol' Escamillo for the rest of the term and he might reconsider inviting you to his solar surfer club."

"Sounds promising but I won't even consider it," chuckled the lad.

Kate brought up once more. "But I'll have to agree anyway. You did a rather satisfactory performance back there in the grounds, and helping out Ferdinand without getting support from him had you setting up new standards for our class."

"Uh... thanks," quite ill at ease, he said.

"Now that I mention it, I think the same should be said to your contribution to this week's writing exercise. It might need a couple of revisions but still, it's not _bad_."

"Yeah, I know," he chuckled. "I was still testing out if it would go well with Everly's topic for the week but you know, I'm just trying to get things to work."

The girl hummed once more in thought. "I'm curious though. Any reason why you're doing so well academics-wise?"

Amused by her question, he replied. "I wouldn't put it that way but I don't have a particular reason really. I'm just doing what I can while I'm still here in the academy, that's how I've been since the term started."

She continued to probe. "Is there any chance that you would vie for class rank one?"

"Dunno, probably. I'll just see when I get there," he shrugged.

"Even if it meant competing with other prospective students?"

"I'm not the Ferdinand-type of competitive _at all_, but I guess having some sort of competition isn't so bad either," he pondered. "To tell you the truth, it just gives me an excuse to try and keep up."

It somehow made sense, she thought. What's the thrill in life without a little competition? But even so, there was an utter discomfort she had been getting from Jim all day through and now, it wasn't just because of his not-so-endearing traits. To Kate, he was already making himself off to be her possible competition, hence an even more potential threat.

As he carried her behind him without the slightest bit of hesitation, she wondered if the lad would change his mind about this once he found out that there was no way that she would ever give up the rank that she had worked so hard for. Or was he even aware of that in the first place? "Even if it meant you'll have to consider me as your rival for it?"

Awestruck by the spontaneous turn of events, Rainier cooed all of a sudden. "Ooh, is this a challenge we're getting from you, Miss Kate the Blake?"

The black-haired lad was, however, met by an unamused expression on Kate's face. "Please stop calling me that."

Jim blatantly turned down, thinking if that were the case. "The thought of challenging you never crossed my mind but if that's how you see it, then we're just gonna have to agree to disagree. Still, I think that'd be pretty interesting. Don't you think so, Kate?"

Of course they had to meet halfway, she thought. Sure, Kate indeed saw the whole of it as a challenge but interesting wasn't exactly how she would describe it. Of all people that she would be competing with, it had to be the rule-breaking novice who's been grating on her nerves the entire morning. From this alone, she couldn't quite accurately describe the encounter she was about to get from Jim, but she knew for sure that it would be something different, like some uncharted territory that was yet for her to discover on her own.

True enough, that was how everything had been since she met him. Just from the view on Jim's back, she looked around and could already tell how mildly different the campus was in comparison to when she got around it on her own, comparing from observation through her own two eyes. That moment however, she also felt like she was moving around through someone else's perspective, not just through someone else's feet.

Most of the time, the view would be blocked by the back of the lad's head but she didn't particularly mind as Kate herself was watching him from behind. Beneath a portion of his neatly-trimmed hair was an indication that his left ear had been pierced once and that some sort of earring used to dangle from it. How uncouth, she commented to herself, being accustomed to how strict the Navy uniform protocol prohibited such surplus accessories on their men. But it wasn't new though, since she often saw ear-pierced spacers outside of armada territory.

She saw droplets of sweat form on his neck from the day's heat and from her weight pulling down on him, trickling to the yellow lining of his shirt. There was also the unavoidable whiff of his scent when the wind would blow to their direction, a fusion of what seemed to be fabric softener from his clothes, the mild scent of shampoo on his hair and a light musk that came with the hint of sweat from their military drills. Even Kate thought to herself that the scent somehow suited him quite nicely, how surprisingly pleasant he actually smelled.

She also noted how he was quite atypical compared to most people that she already met, how he never saw her differently from the other kids. Her classmates revered her, even feared her as if she was her own father. She glanced to the blond Dale and noted how the lad still consistently address her as 'Miss Blake' with the intent of high-respect, just like most of the academy's entire populace who knew about her but weren't well-acquainted with.

Jim, however, didn't seem to care and looked at her not as the admiral's daughter but as a student council member, a project partner, an injured classmate, simply as Kate. He seemed genuine enough, and that trait was perhaps something that she liked about him. And that was all the more she felt terrible for going back and forth with how she should be with Jim for that reason, given that the lad was a completely different character and yet saw that both of them could be in the exact same level. _Almost_ in the exact same level, she thought.

"If that's what floats your boat, I guess..." she simply replied, finally unsure of what to say next in return.

* * *

The time at the clock tower read ten minutes before ten o'clock. Arriving at the campus' main gate, Kate then got off of Jim's back and had her things handed back to her. She then slung her knapsack on one shoulder, clutched her laundry bag on one hand and hoisted herself with her crutch beneath her arm.

"I can't say thank you enough for helping me get all the way out here, all of you," she said wholeheartedly. "I can take it from here but I really want to say that I appreciate the gesture."

"No problemo, Miss Kate the..." giddily saluted Rainier but before he could finish, he was received by the same disapproving frown on the girl's face and immediately corrected himself when he got the hint. "Blake. Just Miss Blake."

"Okay," began Jim as he dusted off his hands. "Now that our work here is done, I think we should be on our way to..."

His black-haired roommate interjected and stopped the lad on his tracks before he could walk away. "Oh, no you don't. You're staying here until her ride comes around, Don Quixote," he whispered.

Baffled, he took the Cervid by the shoulder and pulled themselves away from anyone who would hear what he was about to say. "What're you getting at, man?"

"Come on, Jim!" he groaned. "It's common courtesy for a lady to be kept company 'til someone comes to pick her up. That's just how a gentleman should be, you know."

For a quick second, the two glanced to the red-haired Leonid who was chatting with Dale who brought up the topic of her walking crutch, which she mentioned that she had leased from the nurse's station until her ankle got better or at least until she finally had one of her own. Jim then turned away from her once more and leaned to his roommate.

"Rainier, this is Kate we're talking about," the human teen protested. "You know that she could very well take care of her own."

"I know, but her broken ankle says otherwise," he reasoned still.

Weighing how he should act on the situation given their contradicting opinions, the lad rolled his eyes and just hesitantly conceded to his roommate's request. "Okay, fine! But I'm only doing it just this once 'cause of her foot."

"Of course," he complied. "Though if you'd wait on Kate several more times, I'll say that you might actually have a chance to win her over. That's how I convinced Monina to go out with me."

He squinted at what his words implied and asked in a perturbed tone. "... Sorry?"

"Nothing," he shrugged innocently.

Shaking his head of the thought, Jim then turned back to the rest their peers and declared. "Alright, you guys can go ahead. I'm gonna have to stick around 'til Kate's ride drops by since she might still need some help with her things later."

The red-haired girl frantically waved a hand to him and attempted to turn down his offer. "N-No. That won't be necessary, Jim," she cut in, hoping not to see any more of them for the rest of the day.

"Atta boy, Jim! Now that's a gentleman when I see one," his black-haired roommate drowned out her words. "Well, we should be heading to the showers then."

"Sure," said Jim, the lass knowing that she could no longer object since he had finally made up his mind. "Don't wait up."

Before she could say anything else, the three boys had already waved goodbye to Jim and begun pacing away from the two of them. At this point, it would be futile to continue arguing. With the four done with their offered assistance, Kate hoped that this would've been her chance at finally being left alone. Being in a group of people for an extended amount of time exhausted her, and she knew that Jim was just as eager as his pals to head back to their quarters after a long and tiresome morning. This made her question whatever changed his mind.

"I know, I know," shrugged Jim who already answered for her. "Rainier got to talk me out into keeping you company. He's always been like that but I have to give the guy some credit."

Kate breathed, noting of how similarly tenacious the black-haired teen was to the lad she was currently chatting with. "Well, if his ideas were meant for good intentions, then who am I to judge?"

"My thoughts exactly," he agreed with a nod.

But she was astounded nonetheless by the fact that he was not as adamant as she thought, seeing that there were some who could persuade him away from his initiative.

Since they were going to wait for several minutes more, the lad thought he might as well strike up a conversation with her rather than just let themselves stand there in awkward silence. "So, your dad's gonna pick you up, huh?"

The lass shook her head. "The family driver will."

"Well, are you gonna be alright? I mean your foot won't exactly be better in about a week."

"I'll be fine, Jim. I mean I've had worse," she assured in a lighter tone, appreciative of his concern.

"Really? Like what?"

Remembering how inappropriate the incident might be for her to bring up, Kate hesitated a good second before coming up with an excuse. "... You'd rather not know."

"Oh, alright," the lad said, letting the whole topic slide. "How are your folks gonna take the news about that though?"

"They will be surprised definitely, but I'm sure my father will understand. He's bound to be familiar with the injuries that should come with his strenuous job, all of it from head to toe."

"Yeah... but you sure know a lot about the stuff he's going through," he remarked in high regard. "Are you, what, following his footsteps or something?"

"With the constant high-expectations from _almost_ everyone, it just couldn't be helped I guess," she shrugged, considering that Jim might not be among the 'everyone' she had in mind. "When your father's a high-ranking officer, whether you like it or not, you'll somehow be involved with his political field eventually. In my case, I was told that I _have to_ become a part of it. That's why I'm taught of the basics as soon as I started attending primary school."

"But is it even necessary to have you all prepped up for a job description that's the same as his?"

"Unlike you who can voluntarily join the Navy if you want to, mine is more for an obligatory cause," she explained. "We all know that in a few years, my father will have to step down from his position for retirement and when that happens, someone will have to fill in from where he left. That's when I'll step in, and what I aim to do for myself."

"Well, I'm not surprised that your father would want you of all people to take his place, but why _you_ exactly? When he can just take in one of his juniors under the wing and just give them the job or something like that," he advised.

As much as she wanted to continue with their conversation, Kate felt that it was already heading to a more personal case and that she was about to step beyond her boundaries if she would fill him in with it. "It's... classified," she just said, deciding to leave the discussion open-ended with the intent of keeping her own personal matters private.

"I see..." he conceded once more. "But are you sure you're quite okay with that?"

Kate scoffed. "That's a ridiculous question. Of course I'm alright with that!" she said firmly, mustering confidence from her upbringing that had made her the strong and independent individual she was. She was raised to be a person like her father but sadly, she was aware that was probably all that she ever knew about herself. She just couldn't bring herself to settle with that, and she hung her head low in shame.

"Right... Well, I think your dad's pretty cool anyway," remarked Jim in an attempt to cheer her up.

Stunned, Kate raised her eyes to him. "You think?"

He wouldn't even lie about that, he thought. Jim had never met Admiral Blake before, but just from brief glimpses and from how his own daughter spoke highly of him, the man had a particular trait that he wished his own father could've had. The admiral was an honorable man, and he paid just as much respect to his own family. He abided by them in the same way that he brought honor to the Terran Empire. And Jim admitted to himself he was envious of that, as Kate had a father who actually stuck around to watch her grow into the bright and fascinatingly determined girl that he was talking to right now. "Yeah, he sure is."

Finally, there was an absence of words, and the silence had engulfed them when they could no longer follow through on their conversation. The peace was short-lived, however, when the sight of a government-issued carriage was closing in on them from a distance. Kate turned to its direction and Jim then got the idea that it was the ride that had come to pick her up. Jim gestured towards her laundry bag only to be rebuffed by the red-haired lass.

"It's fine, Jim. The chauffeur will take care of the rest for me."

The vehicle stopped shortly in front of them and indeed, the driver had gotten off from his seat to receive her. Jim breathed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Well, if you say so. I'll see you on Monday then," he bid.

"Yeah. See you then."

Just when the brown-haired lad was about to turn away from her, Kate called out. "And Jim, I... I can't find the right way to say it, but thanks," she said, in gratitude of his camaraderie despite the cold treatment she gave and the hard luck that she had brought to herself earlier.

Amused, Jim just couldn't help but let out a small chuckle to her peculiar words that seemed to come out of nowhere. "It's just a lift, Kate. No big deal."

With that, the Leonid handed her luggage to the man and was escorted aboard to the passenger seat. From the side window, Kate got a short glimpse of Jim waving a hand to her and when the driver had begun wheeling the carriage on the road, she noticed that the lad didn't stick around for too long and had also made his own way, back into academy grounds.


	16. Magilla

**XV. Magilla**

* * *

"So, have you heard?"

In that exact moment, a ring of the school bell echoed in the academy hallways and had every student start inching out of their seats. The economics professor then took that sign and called the end of his lecture with a close of a book and a wave of his hand, allowing his pupils to leave or prepare for their next class.

Prepping himself as well, Jim gave his arms a good stretch with a grunt and replied to his roommate's interrupted question. "If you're talking about the bell, Rainier..."

"What—no!" the brunet chortled and his hand slammed the lad's back in jest. "That's a good one, Jim, but no. That's not it."

An elbow on his desk and a hand cupping his face while he observed the horde of students leave the room before them, their other roommate Chris asked. "What were you talking about then?"

"Here's the thing," began Rainier with his report. "Deirdre de Vries' having her super sweet sixteen this week and I heard she's already started inviting a handful of kids."

A puzzled look appeared on the Loppytonian's face and turned to face him straight. "Okay... What about it?"

Rainier raised an eyebrow at the lad's cluelessness and pulled out a folded piece of paper from the inside of his notepad, unfurling it to reveal his cause. "I don't know, there just so happens to be a square in our bingo game that says 'attend a party' and this is probably our chance to get that done. Or did you guys already forget about it?"

"Nope," leaning back as Morph went chirruping out of his pocket to agree, Jim answered with a chuckle knowing that it was one of the few things in the academy that he had been so busy with aside from his ship engineering exercises. "But I _have_ been busy checking off other squares in the past couple of days, if you guys didn't know."

Dale thumped a finger on his chin in thought, now getting the gist of Rainier's intention. "Oh, I see. If we attend her birthday bash, then that'd be one bingo task down for all of us, like a giveaway of some sort."

With a laugh, Chris dissuaded his already anticipating roommates. "Right, like we have a chance to make it to her guest list. In case you haven't noticed, we're all practically strangers to her."

"Hey, a guy can dream, can't he?" the black-haired teen consoled as he folded away his game sheet. "I know that we probably have a slight chance with Dre 'cause she's chill and all, but we probably won't have much with the rest of the 'cool' kids who has her back. So why not just let my imagination run free while I can?"

His little shapeshifting friend sighed a long 'aww' as he lowered his deflated self on Jim's desk, at the realization of the slight chance of them getting some of the fun.

"Oh, don't worry, little Morphy," he comforted with a hand gently patting the blob's jelly-like head. "Maybe we can have our own party and get ourselves invited, huh? Saves us the trouble of crashing someone else's."

"I'd rather have that, to be honest," added Jim, recalling the only time he got to talk to Deirdre when they were grouped for a week-long team exercise. "Since we've barely made conversation with her, it's probably gonna be a shot in the dark for an invitation to happen to us guys."

'_Especially to me,'_ the lad thought to himself, thinking that no one would probably be interested in inviting a poor slob who already held a record of meetings with the student disciplinary tribunal.

"I would prefer that, too. I guess that will be okay with me," sharing the same sentiment as Jim, the blond agreed. "I don't think it's worth going through the trouble of being invited by someone we barely know, just for a game that we made for our own amusement."

"But that's the whole point of the game, man," reminded Chris. "The goal was to have some stuff done that doesn't have anything to do with our dang academics, all the while having a little fun while we're at it."

"Oh, right," he uttered, now feeling a bit sheepish. "Although if I could have a word in it, I would rather attend her party than take a chance at the cafeteria's mystery soup."

To his surprise, he felt an arm pull him in and brought close beside Rainier's face only for his colleague to tease him about the bingo task he had been trying to avoid.

"Speaking of which, they're serving that out until tonight. Today _is _a Wednesday, Dale," the guy jostled which made his comrade just shudder in return.

"Still," uttered Jim while bringing his hands to the back of his head as he sunk further in his seat. "It'd be real nice if our names ever made it to her mailing list. Things have gotten quiet around here lately."

Once noticing that the room had been mostly cleared out by their classmates, the four then scooted out of their seats and took the liberty to head out to the exit, only to be stopped halfway when they heard the soft-spoken professor calling out to one of them.

"Mr. Hawkins," he spoke with a small wave of the couple sheets of paper he held in front of him.

The mentioned lad turned to his direction and soon caught what the instructor was summoning him for. "Oh, right. My essay."

As he was often told to do, the little shape shifter hovered away from his handler, being instructed to stick around with Rainier for the meantime as Jim attended to the professor's call. His pals waved to the lad as they walked away but insisted on waiting for him outside the room since they knew he won't be taking long anyway.

The brunet then made on his way down to the front of the room right where Prof. Greyfeld was waiting for him. He was soon at arm's length from the teacher's desk and stopped in front of it, right where the man stood across.

"Here you go," he began, holding out the pages for Jim to take. "I apologize for the wait but I'm still working on checking my other classes' essays. First in-first out basis, you see."

"It's alright, sir. No worries," the lad answered with a slight smile as he took the papers from the professor's hands, not as bloodied with red-inked marks as before, and slid it in between the pages of his notebook. Judging from his face, however, it didn't show how grateful he really was on the inside for the kind lecturer's reconsideration of his work.

With that out of the way, the instructor proceeded with tidying up the rest of his belongings. "It's been graded and recorded according to the criteria I gave all of you but if you don't mind me saying, Mr. Hawkins, your output is substantially quite good."

"Thanks, but it's not as good as Talavera's, I think," Jim joked.

He laughed at the boy's remark. "Not remotely close, no. It might've needed a bit of tweaking since you missed a couple of significant discussion points, but I see that it's a tenfold better this way. Don't you think so?"

The grin on Jim's face widened, understanding exactly what the instructor meant with that. "Yeah, _way_ better than plagiarism that's for sure."

From the open door, Prof. Greyfeld noticed a person peeking out to them. Making off to who the person was, he recognized that it was one of the best students in his class and who just happened to be one of Jim's closest friends. The man smiled at the thought as the blond teen shied out from his sight and brought up an idea to his young pupil.

"I want to mention that Mr. Wess does perform quite well in my class, and I see that you are well-acquainted with him. Perhaps I could suggest that you consult him to help you out in areas which you can't grasp quite thoroughly," he offered. "His assistance might be of great help to you and your performance in the subject."

Jim pondered about his tutor's recommendation and knowing Dale, the pangolin lad would most likely accept the favor right off the bat like how he's always open to share his trail mix snacks with anyone. Besides, it was getting involved with his blond-haired peer's wrongdoing that got him clashing with Salle (later Ferdinand) and ended up with getting him in deep trouble. With that, the lad had decided that he might as well ask his friend of the favor to make up for the inconvenience.

"Well, he does kinda owe me one," he thought out loud. "Anyway, I'll look that up, sir."

His response brought a satisfied smile on the man's face. "Good, lad. I'll see you all in class tomorrow."

With a small salute to Prof. Greyfeld, Jim made his way to the exit once more while the instructor stashed the last of his lesson manuals in his satchel. The teenager then paused when he got to the doorstep and was reunited with his friends once more.

"Oh, hey," spoke his Cervid roommate. "Since we're still a few minutes early for our next class, you guys wanna go my way?"

"Why, you have somewhere else to be?"

"Nope, but it'd be nice to drop by at Monina's and walk her to her next class while I'm at it."

Chris shrugged at what the guy was getting at. "Predictable, Rainier. But since we're all just waiting anyway..."

"Yeah, and it'd be nice to check up on how she's doing every once in a while," the human agreed as his pet protoplasm hovered to him with enthusiastic chirps, knowing that Monina was a transfer student just like him.

Although slightly hesitant, Dale nodded at them, thinking of just going along with his peers to where all of them were headed. "Alright, lead the way then."

Following their friend to the intended lecture hall, Jim decided to pick up from where their conversation ended and asked. "So, when is Deirdre celebrating?"

"Friday, but the whole shindig's set to happen on Saturday night," notified Rainier. "She probably thought it'd be a bad idea to show up on a drill day with a hangover."

"That'd probably be the best," he laughed at the thought of Sgt. Boyd yelling someone's ears off for dragging their drunk-butt self into the military oval.

"Though I have a hunch, Jim. Things just might go in your favor and end up getting away with a guest pass from Dre."

"Why's that?"

He then let out a self-assured hum in his preparation to explain. "Well, there's that first encounter you had with Ferdinand, then that brawl with Salle. And ever since the essay dilemma that you just got out of, there's an even bigger chance that Dre will hit you up for her party if ever she's caught up with all that jazz."

Puzzled, he asked with what was now a discomfited frown. "From the way you're saying it, aren't those just reasons for me to get invited even less?"

"For the usual celebrant here in ISA, maybe. But it's a good thing this is Deirdre we're talking about, Jim, and almost everyone here knows that _the_ Deirdre de Vries is one of the handful of people _the_ Ferdinand Escamillo couldn't stand having around."

"Oh, right," beamed Dale upon remembering. "Ferd doesn't get along well with Dre, too, does he? There was a small buzz about it in freshman year."

"Exactly."

Jim shrugged. "Well, that's one thing we have in common."

His black-haired roommate raised an eyebrow at him and suggested. "And she's into solar surfing, too, Jim. That's a twofer."

"Okay, now that's just ridiculous," Chris rebuffed with open hands. "So, you're saying that Dre might actually consider giving Jim an invitation just because they're both in Ferd's blacklist and are interested in the same hobby?"

With a determined look in his eyes, the Cervid stepped up to him and set an offer to put an end on their debate. "I bet you a fiver she will give him a pass."

He paused to think, but the likewise compelled Loppytonian teen accepted his wager. "You're on."

They later arrived at other end of the hall where they came from, passing through the students and metal lockers that lined their path. One student in particular had already closed her storage and just when she was about to leave for her next class, she caught sight of the four teenagers coming her way. There was a glimmer in her eye when she caught sight of the brown-haired human among them and she skidded to catch up to him.

"James Hawkins!" she greeted in high spirits, her high-pitched voice ringing and causing Morph to scurry into his owner's pocket. "Or shall I call you 'Jim' since that's what everyone here calls you?"

A half-smile spread across the lad's face, mildly surprised by the sight of the small fennec girl that was quick to speak up to him. "Yeah, Jim's fine."

"Great! I'm Ivy Cavendish, class representative and a sophomore student like you," she introduced, quickly grabbing Jim by the hand to give him a brisk handshake that had him bobbing on his feet. "And you're just the person I needed to talk to."

"Alright," he stammered while straightening himself up after what seemed to be an earthquake that shook him. "What did you want to see me for?"

"I'll cut straight to the chase. I am cordially inviting you to Deirdre de Vries' sixteenth birthday party. As requested by the birthday girl herself," she announced before turning to her tote bag to pull something out from it.

Jim blinked at what she just said, quite surprised since they were just thinking about the whole topic earlier. "I... made it to the guest list?"

"Excuse me, Miss Cavendish," a soft peep from Dale interjected. "But do you happen to be the planner of Miss De Vries' birthday celebration?"

"In a way, yes," she replied as she was now leafing through a stack of envelopes inside. "I've been appointed by Deirdre as keeper of the official guest list, among other things to assist her with the party arrangements."

Upon hearing her account, Rainier commented. "So I'm not surprised that Miss Sophomore Rep here would be the one to invite Jim first. After all, the birthday girl's gonna need some help from her girlfriend with the planning."

_'Oh, they're going out, huh,' _commented the brown-haired lad in his head, now enlightened with the fennec-like girl's relationship to the celebrant.

"And you'd be right, wise guy," she concurred, now holding out an envelope to Jim, his birthday invitation that she had taken out from her tote. "Planning and organizing events is quite a meticulous job, and it _is_ my duty as her most trusted half to make sure that everything in that party will go the way she wants it to."

Jim took it from her hand, his eyes scanning the stationery from front to back. Such nice handwriting and parchment paper, he remarked. He wasn't surprised though, knowing that Ivy and Deirdre (or whoever prepared the birthday invitations) had class and good taste for being the 'cool' kids that they were, as how Rainier had put it.

"I guess this doesn't necessarily mean 'welcome to the club', I take it," he supposed.

Ivy chuckled. "Not at all, Jim. Deirdre only took an interest in you after the stuff that's been going on between you and Ferdinand Escamillo, as well as your interest in the field of rocket-powered hover boards..."

Suddenly, Chris felt an elbow nudge him by the arm and turned to notice Rainier whispering 'I told you so'.

"... But that doesn't mean you're 'in'-crowd material quite yet, dearie. It'll take time for you to clean up your dirty laundry with Ferdinand, not to mention be noticed in a good light by the rest of the student body."

"Okay...?" he replied, flabbergasted by the fennec-like girl's bluntness of words coming at him like a raging Orcus Galacticus to a helpless dinghy. Still, he couldn't say it but he appreciated that the girl would just tell him how it is.

The lass resumed with her remarks though. "But don't worry about it. I see that you've been doing better conduct-wise and academics-wise since the two of you last made contact. I'm guessing that it's to make up for the bad reputation headlines that you made, am I correct?"

Jim still couldn't bring himself to answer. "Uh..."

"And I also heard about the time you helped Kate get around the campus with an injured foot. Are you trying to get on her good side or something?"

Caught off guard, her bold assumption alas had him chortling. "N-Nothing of the sort. But now that you mention it, is Kate coming with?"

Ivy crossed her arms and pouted. "Well, I would've considered giving her an invite if she didn't have to go home for the weekend all the time."

"Oh, right," he uttered upon being reminded of the fact. "Kate won't be around by the time it starts, huh?"

"She's probably having evening tea with her folks by that time. Why, are you hesitating to come because she won't be?"

'_Again with the wild assumptions,'_ thought Jim with a huff. "Well, I _am_ wondering if there'll be anyone in the guest list that I can stick around with since I hardly know anyone from your friends."

Thinking quickly, she took out her notebook and her eyes scanned through the names of Deirdre's official party-goers to check if the names of his three friends ever made it to the list. She, however, closed the pad shut when she made it to the end of the roster and gave the lad a downcast look.

"I'm sorry, Jim, but I don't think any of your friends managed to make it to my invites," she informed, leaving Rainier, Chris and Dale slack-jawed and daunted by her reply.

His hopes let down, Rainier felt the need to let out a long sigh. "Oh..."

Unsure of how to remedy the lad's problem, she resumed and suggested halfheartedly. "If you like though, maybe you can stick around with me or Deirdre to keep you company, but we'll probably be busy entertaining the other party guests while we're at it."

He looked back to his three comrades and bargained with a thumb pointing to them. "You sure you can't make any adjustments so I can tag these guys along?"

"I'm fairly sure about that, Jim," the girl turned down. "I'm afraid I'll have to stick with how the list is to make sure the party's venue doesn't get too overcrowded. Deirdre's brother owns the place and it'd be best if I keep the guest list the way it is if I don't want the party guests causing him any trouble."

"I see what you mean," he finally complied before holding out the envelope back to her. "In that case, thanks for the invitation... but I'm not interested."

Hearing what he just said, Dale cried at his friend who was turning down the opportunity given to him. "Jim!"

"What're you doing, man?! You're gonna miss out on the fun," seconded Chris.

In comfort, Rainier then laid a hand on Jim's shoulder and advised. "Dude, just go and have yourself a blast in that gig. It'll be okay, we'll understand if there's really no sense arguing with that dang guest list."

"And get me holed up with a bunch of people I don't know?" he retorted but with a sly tilt of the head to his black-haired roommate before he could get back to the sandy-haired girl. "I think I'll have to pass, Ivy. At least I have a good alibi why I won't be able to join the celebration."

"But this should be seen as a rare opportunity for you, Jim, for someone from your league to be invited in an event such as this," said Ivy in an attempt to convince him. "And Deirdre will definitely be disappointed if you won't be able to make it."

"I know, but it'd also be a disappointment to be around some kids that I've never been with," crossing his arms, Jim defended. "Which is why I'm better off turning down the offer as early as now. The only way you can make me go is if these guys are going with me. It's either all of us are coming or none of us will. End of discussion."

Rainier soon caught on with what the lad was trying to do, and that was not backing down in having all of them invited.

"Listen, pretty boy." Her fingers pushed back the pair of round spectacles that were loose-fitted on her large fox-like ears, impending to slide from the freckled bridge of her pointed nose. "I'm just trying to invite the sane amount of people that her brother's tavern can accommodate. Inviting a few extra people throws 'getting on his good side' down the drain, so please... Understand that I'm being strict with the guest list for a good reason."

"But Deirdre is quite a pal, gal," backing up his chum, the antlered-lad negotiated smoothly. "I'm sure she'll understand that there's nothing wrong with having just three extra people around. Heck, if we can't even move around in the tavern anymore, we'll be partying outside if we have to. We're negotiable lads, and quite easy to get along with. So why not take a stab at inviting all of us?"

Although she was already feeling cornered, Ivy was still not giving in to their accord and she huffed through her nostrils. "Humph. I still couldn't say that I'm convinced in inviting your roommates, especially a wise guy like _him_," she said with a stiff finger pointing to the Cervid teenager.

Despite her rebuffs, Rainier ignored her completely and all his intentions to continue haggling with the girl disappeared when he noticed a familiar person coming out from the nearest lecture hall. Without wasting another second, he brushed past Ivy and left puzzled looks from his companions for walking away, but all signs of confusion quickly waned when they realized what (or rather who) he was rushing off to.

"Rinny-kins!" they heard a lass call out whom the Cervid hurriedly scooped into his arms.

"Heya, sugarplum!" he greeted, letting his hands slide from her back and to her hands which he gave a gentle squeeze. "I got a lot of free time on my hands. Hope you don't mind if I brought the boys with me."

"Oh, it's fine," she giggled, with Rainier's roommates still in disbelief that such a raspy voice belonged to a dainty school girl like her despite having heard from her some time before. "It's not every day that I get to hang out with all of you."

As the rest of boys followed to where they were, Jim waved a hand to the bunny girl. "Hey, Mon."

She turned her head to receive them and flashed a toothy grin. "Hi, guys. I appreciate that you would join my Rinny-kins to see me."

While catching up on each other, what they didn't notice was that Ivy had walked along to see what was going on, only to be surprised by who the Cervid was with. "Monina?"

"Vee!" she squealed when she saw the fennec girl approach her, throwing her arms around the lass in glee.

Meanwhile, Rainier's brown eyes went back and forth between Ivy and his girlfriend in bewilderment and remarked. "You two already know each other?!"

"Yeah, Vee and I went to the same school when we were kids," Monina explained as she stepped back from the lass to give her some space. "Certified seatmates and besties from first to sixth grade."

"Yup, Pavilion School of Agilias for Young Girls. Well, that was until I had to move houses to keep up with the family business," added Ivy, who was then given her turn to inquire. "But enough of that. I didn't know that you're already acquainted with this guy."

"Acquainted?" Monina repeated in a sing-song tone, rushing back to Rainier with a possessive cling onto his arm. "Of course. He's my sweetheart, silly! Though I see that you two are already quite friendlies with each other."

The Cervid took a quick glance to the lass before a frenzied waving of his hands in front of him. "Not at all!"

The girl concurred. "No, we're not. It just so happens that I was inviting his roommate, Jim Hawkins, to Deirdre's party. And now they just couldn't stop insisting that I invite all four of them!"

Monina glanced to the black-haired lad at the realization. "Oh, you didn't make it to the guest list then?"

Rainier shrugged. "Hey, it's fine. It's not like you're invited either."

"I'm invited, sweetie," she notified in correction to what the lad had assumed as she tenderly pinched him by the cheek. "I'll be going to the party with Vee and her little sister Holly."

"Wait, what?"

"Deirdre insisted that I invite Holly with a couple of her freshman friends," Ivy informed further. "So I'm going to need some help from Monina to keep an eye on them."

Rainier's jaw dropped upon hearing the news from both of them, with freshmen and transfer students (who happened to be his roommate and his girlfriend) beating him to an invitation despite having stayed in the academy longer than they did.

"Oh, you have to get invited, hun," his girlfriend pleaded as she tugged on his arm in eagerness. "You just have to. The party's gonna be more fun if you'll come!"

"Well, that's what Rainier and I have been trying to convince Ivy with, Mon," Jim cut in to clarify for her the situation they were in. "But I don't think we'll ever change her mind, since she's sorta concerned if Deirdre's expecting more company than what her brother's tavern can handle."

Now getting a grip on their current quandary, the bunny girl pouted and uttered a disappointed little 'aww.'

"Everything Jim said is true, girl. Now you understanding why I'm being so uptight," comforted Ivy, but noticing the heartbroken look on Monina's face, the lass rolled her eyes and sighed. "But since he probably means the world to you, I guess I can pull some strings so your boyfriend can come with."

Like a flash of lightning, all she heard afterwards was an overjoyed squeal from her childhood friend and just realized that she was later being pulled into a tight hug.

"You're the best!" cried Monina as she nuzzled a cheek against the girl's sandy blond hair in gratitude.

A grin swept across Jim's face upon hearing the news that his Cervid roommate would be joining them. But upon remembering the case of his other two pals, the curve on his face loped flat again. "But what about Dale and Chris?"

Hearing him, the two lads in question immediately caught her eye and she was even quicker to ask about them. "Yeah, Vee. What about the other two fellas?"

"What about them?"

"Oh, come on," she moaned, letting go of Ivy in her grasp once more. "You can't just change your mind about my Rinny-kins and not invite the rest of his friends. That's just no fun at all."

"Monina, my one job is to invite the people who are in the mailing list. I just made Rainier an exception because you two are apparently going out," Ivy explained and finalized. "The other two guys, I don't think I have any reasons to invite them other than because they're Jim's closest friends. I would invite them myself but as I've said time and again, their names aren't in the list and I have to stick with that."

"Let me get this straight. If ever Dee-Dee got their names are in there, then you have no choice but to invite them. Right?" asked the bunny girl, her fingers brushing her chin in thought.

"Well, yeah. That's the only appropriate thing to do."

"I see." Then an idea went popping in her mind. "In that case... okay!"

"Wait, w-what do you mean 'okay'?"

The girl zipped past to Rainier before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll be right back!" she said before darting away from the five of them.

"Hey, where are you going?! Monina, get back here!" yelled Ivy whose calls were completely ignored by her childhood friend.

With the lass out of sight, Dale leaned closer to Rainier with a comment. "Now I know why you like her so much," he said in an exasperated sigh to which Rainier just couldn't contain his laughs at.

Watching where the girl could've went off to, they saw her make a turn to one of the classrooms down the hallway and true to her word, she came walking out from it not long later then scampered all the way back to them.

"Hey, I'm back!" she giddily announced to the group. "And I brought Dee-Dee with me!"

To everyone's surprise, the birthday girl was indeed following right behind her, her flowing dark red hair weaving through the air as she tried to keep up with the bunny girl's speed. In comparison to other girls their age, the red-head stood taller. This was even made more noticeable when placed side by side with Monina who was of average height. Despite her towering stature, Deirdre was still the one-eyed beauty that she was known for by the academy.

"D-Deirdre?!" Ivy yelped at the sight of her, wondering what Monina might have said that had her convinced to be dragged into their little debate.

"Hey, 'Nina said you two are having a little disagreement with the guest list," the red-head spoke, standing right beside the girl who had plucked her out from her just-ended class hours. "Is that right?"

Her girlfriend stepped up in an attempt to make clear what was happening. "No, no. There's no problem with the list at all..."

"Yes, that's right!" Monina replied with a single nod, contradicting what Ivy just said. "Jimmy-kins and I want to invite a couple of friends to the party with us, but Vee kept insisting to get on your big brother's side and only invite the kids who made it to the list!"

"Well, you sure got your facts straight," the fennec girl huffed.

The bunny girl continued to whine. "But Vee..."

"No 'but's! So if I were you, I'd kindly drop all of this now because there is nothing else you or Jim can say to convince me into inviting the rest of his roommates."

Deirdre interjected. "Wait, these friends you're talking about... they're Jim Hawkins' roommates?"

"Yeah, Dee," the Monina confirmed, her voice already sounding more hoarse than it really was from all their talking. "We just think it's unfair if his other buddies couldn't make it to the party if Vee has already changed her mind about my Rinny-kins."

She was catching on with the situation now. "So, that's what all this is? This is what you two have been fussing about?" she asked in a peeved tone, making Ivy look away and think that her childhood friend had done it this time.

Not a single reply reached her ears from the group of six, but was instead met by a single solid nod from Monina. In response, Deirdre raised her hand and just when Ivy thought Monina was about to get slapped... the red-head had gently draped it on the bunny girl's shoulder to her surprise.

"Why didn't any of you say so?" in a light-hearted tone she asked, looking at them with what was now a warm smile. "There's absolutely no problem with that. I'll have Ivy update the guest list and, oh! Make a couple of invitations to give out to them."

"Wait a minute, hold up," said the fennec girl, overwhelmed with all the new developments just coming at her all at once. "You said you'll only invite forty persons max and with these two riding along, that makes your guest list nearly fifty persons long aside from the additional people you've added a couple days back!"

"Don't worry about it," she assured with a smug smile. "I mean it's not like my brother will even notice that number of people. Besides, it's my sweet sixteen so all the people I want to attend... _goes_."

Ivy was beginning to stammer, restless and fearing for what this course of action might cause her girlfriend afterwards. "But... Desmond is... I-I don't think this is a good idea... You're gonna..."

"Hey, hey, listen. I'm not gonna get in trouble, okay?" she reassured, now holding the lass by the arm while her other hand ran up and down Ivy's back to hush her. "Calm down. I know what you're thinking is for my own good, _but I know what's best_, and I'm not gonna change my mind about that. Just do what you can to keep the party in place and I'll make sure to answer to whatever you can't handle."

Shutting her eyes, a long sigh left Ivy and opened them again. She raised an eyebrow to Deirdre and gave a deadpan stare that said something between the lines of 'really?' and 'you promise?'

"I swear by my beard," in humor, the red-head pressed on.

With slight hesitation in deciding to withdraw from her consistent complaining, the fennec girl shrugged and gave in. "Alright, but I won't have a word in this when it comes to speaking with you-know-who."

"Right. You'll be spared from his lecture if ever there will be."

"... Well, I should be on my way to class though. I'll be writing down the new adjustments in my 'to-do' list first thing I get there."

Deirdre rushed to clutch her in her arms, giving her a tight squeeze after Ivy's personal agony to come up with the decision. "You're the best!"

"Right, well..." she stuttered, her face flushed red from the warmth she was getting. She wouldn't deny that she was enjoying all of it though, but decided to clasp free from Deirdre before she could get lost in her thoughts, thinking that she could already melt into her girlfriend's arms any second. "... things to do."

With a wave of her hand, Ivy walked past the group and began her way to her next subject. Deirdre then decided to turn to Jim and ask the lad about earlier, curious for how her significant other handled the task assigned to her. "Did she give you guys a hard time?"

"She really did, I'm not gonna lie," he confessed. "But I get her, Deirdre. If anyone's trying to earn brownie points by making an impression to your brother, they'd probably do the same thing, too."

"Yeah, she's just that crazy for me. Anyway, I hope you guys won't cause much trouble for her during the whole gig."

"Of course, Dre," Rainier, of all people, swore with an open hand. "As thanks for inviting all of us, you can count on me and these guys to keep a low profile, though I'm still not sure what I should get for your birthday present."

"Oh, don't worry about it," she chuckled. "As long as you guys show up to the party, that will be more than enough for me. Especially you, Jim."

The brown-haired lad pointed to himself. "Me?"

"I have something that needs to be taken care of, and I thought I should invite you 'cause I know that you'd be able to do it _perfectly_," she admitted. "I'll think of it as your birthday present, and I'll accept it in exchange for sending out my invites to your pals."

"Uh, sure...?" the lad just shrugged, uncertain of what kind of favor she has waiting for him. "I'll see what I can."

"Awesome! I'll see you all Saturday at seven," she reminded before strolling away.

"Saturday at seven," repeated Jim in a mumble. "Gotcha."

Once the birthday celebrant was already at a distance from them, Rainier quickly scooped his girlfriend by the waist and twirled her in the air. "Dude, you're a doll!" he exclaimed, elated by the interesting turn of events that the girl had laid out for them.

"Y-You're welcome!" Monina answered in a fit of frantic giggles, surprised by his gesture as she struggled to get her words out straight.

As he lowered her to the ground and had her standing on her feet once more, Chris then interjected. "But how did you get so chummy with Deirdre? Were you classmates with her, too?"

"No, silly!" she laughed. "I just got introduced to her by Vee when I got here in the academy, but I guess I'm just her cup of tea 'cause the three of us got along well right off the bat, like three peas in a pod."

Monina might as well be, thought Jim. The girl might be modest about it, but coming from a well-off family and being raised by parents who were stakeholders in a certain ferry ship company (or at least that was what Rainier once informed him), she certainly has the know-how in relating with the other two girls' lifestyles and even easily mingle with other people in their circle.

"But you two are probably closer than acquaintances, Miss Marquis, I mean Monina," noted Dale who promptly corrected himself. "From the way you convinced her to add me and Chris into her mailing list."

"I'm pretty sure it wasn't just my doing, Daley. You could also thank Jimmy and my Rinny-kins for that."

The blond looked to his supportive roommates and grinned a wide smile. "Thanks, guys."

Just when Jim opened his mouth to reply, Rainier had already answered in his place. "No problem, man!"

With nothing else left in the place for them to mull on, the antlered-teen then suggested to the girl. "Well, we could use killing a little more time. How about the boys and I walk you to class while we're at it?"

Agreeing with him, Jim backed his offer. "Yeah, it's kinda our thanks for getting all of us invitations to the party, though we didn't expect that you'd go out of your way to do that."

"Why, that's very kind of you guys, thank you," she said affectionately. She then turned to Jim and replied with a wave of her hand. "And it was absolutely no problem at all, Jimmy-kins. Surely the party won't be as much fun without bringing some friends along."

Hearing that, Jim was just glad that Monina understood his cause. While attending Deirdre's birthday bash alone would be unfair for his uninvited pals, he was already prepared to turn down Ivy's invitation than to attend and end up being left out from crowd of people that he barely knew, with the exception of Monina that is.

On the other hand, Jim was just surprised that the bunny girl already had a new nickname for him, adding to the many others he had been referred to by only a handful of people.

"So, Ivy has a sister named Holly, huh?" noted Rainier from the back of his head, his arm lightly draped around the girl's shoulders. "I'm not implying anything here but does she also happen to have relatives that go along with the names Olive, Pine, and or Mistletoe?"

His little assumption earned him a small chuckle from her. "Quite a theme you got there, hun. Very clever."

"I'm just saying," in jest, Rainier shrugged. Right before he could even forget, he then tilted his head to one of his companions and called him out on their bet earlier. "And hey! Big guy! You owe me a fiver, by the way!"

* * *

"Alright, class. That's all for today, see you again tomorrow," dismissed the astronomy professor Andrew Michaelis as he began rummaging through his things and closing the textbooks he was leafing through earlier in his lecture.

Jim had already stood up from his seat with his roommates but just as they were about to leave, he heard the same man call. "Mr. Hawkins, a minute please?"

Jim, upon hearing the request, excused himself from his peers once more for what conversation the instructor might have for him, as well as instructing his pet Morph to go with them. As his pals began their way out of the room, Jim walked to the man as he was lugging and tidying up his reference materials to his study at the other side of the room before picking up a biscuit from the small platter on his desk.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" began the boy.

"Ah, yes. Please have a seat," he offered in between bites, pointing a hand to one of his guest chairs as he settled himself down on his own. "It's not that urgent, but it's not going to be quite quick either. Have a butter biscuit while you're at it, lad."

"Sure... thanks," said Jim, helping himself to a piece. As he brought it to his face, what he wasn't counting on was the quick maneuvers of his pet shape shifter that immediately snatched the biscuit from his hand.

"Morph!" yelled Jim, flustered at the unanticipated sight of the pink blob relishing the treat in delight while in mid-air. "Morph, you're supposed to be with Rainier!"

On the other hand, Prof. Michaelis was no doubt amused by its sudden presence. "Woah. A pet of yours, I presume?"

"I'm really sorry about this, sir," frantically apologized Jim while in the process of catching the blob whizzing around his head, as Morph avoided getting caught in the pair of human hands that chased him around. "I should've kept a better eye on him."

The man laughed. "Oh, don't be. It's not every day that I get to see some pets roaming around in the academy, and a unique one at that. I'm surprised that you've been granted custody for a pet such as this."

Intrigued, Jim paused from his chase (which gave the shape shifter a chance to roam free around the biscuit tray) and asked. "What do you mean?"

He brought his face closer to have a better look. "He's from a species of shape shifters that's found solely in the Proteus planet cluster, James," he remarked. "I have a minor in environment-related astronomy so I know about how these little guys are being smuggled out of Proteus One by an unidentified group of poachers, hence marking their species as a threatened kind."

Revolted by that fact, he briefly paused to shake his head. "Such poor creatures, which is why I'm astounded to know that you have one in your possession."

"He was given to me by a friend," explained the boy. "He said he had rescued Morph from that planet, and nothing else. I guess I know what he meant by that now."

"And a mighty fine job he did, I mean look at how well it's doing under your care," the professor praised the blob that sat on his plate and let out a loud and satisfied burp after finishing the rest of the biscuits. "But I'm guessing that this isn't the first time he had snuck out on you since the term began."

"No, it's not," Jim confessed with a soft chuckle.

"Well, you two are in luck because I tend to let these incidents slide. Some of my colleagues just aren't as lenient when it comes to pets wandering loose," Prof. Michaelis advised. "As per the academy's regulations on them, in case you forgot."

In a serious tone, the lad complied. "I know, sir. It won't happen again."

"And speaking of regulations, that's what I wanted to talk with you about," moving on to another topic, the man leaned back in his chair and brought his fingertips together. "I heard that you've been getting some delinquency strikes here and there."

The teenager's eyes widened at what he just heard and the professor cleared things up for him. "I'm part of the student welfare board, James, so whoever student the disciplinary tribunal meets with, I'm obliged to know who they are."

"... Right," he uttered, still discomfited about the knowledge that the instructor already has a profile on him.

"But don't fret. As part of the welfare board, it's my prerogative to reach out to those students, not as a professor but rather as a friend. So I want to ask, how are you doing since your last meeting with the tribunal, the one which cancelled your case on 'plagiarism', they said?"

"I think I'm doing fine, never been better," he said in between short thoughtful nods of his head.

"Care to elaborate on that?"

Jim shrugged. "Well, Ferdinand Escamillo's been ignoring me since then. I'm not sure why but it does feel like I've been given a little more space to breathe in. I mean even his chumps haven't been ganging up on me for a while," he half-lied, knowing exactly the reason behind it.

"That's good to hear. And how's your academics?"

"Eh, still the same. Though I think I'm improving in bio and maybe a little bit in literature. I'm already getting the hang of ship eng and astronomy, but history and algebra? Pfft."

"Doesn't mean there won't be any room for improvement, James," advised the instructor.

"Yeah, I know," with a slight chuckle, he agreed.

"So after a tussle through a meteoroid storm, smooth sailing is abound 'til the next milepost on the course, is that right?"

Jim couldn't help but laugh since the professor always was a fan of metaphors. "It's more like a black hole than a meteoroid storm, sir. It sure felt like one."

"A black hole, huh?" The man leaned forward on his desk, his hands brought together in front of his face as he intend to listen closely. "Tell me about it."

"It kinda reminded me of the one voyage I worked for as a cabin boy," recalled Jim. "Everything was so quiet around us, and I just... I closed my eyes for, like, a second then the next thing I know, Pellucid had us flying across the deck when it went supernova."

"Interesting. A supernova should usually metamorphose into either a neutron star or a black hole, but in your case..."

"Yeah, it turned into the big one though our chances of survival for either of them are slim anyway."

"And how did your recent experiences become similar with a black hole encounter?"

"It felt like the end of the road, and there was nothing we can do about the waves pushing us around. Or 'magillas' like what the pros call them. When we realized that we were getting sucked into the eye of the storm, our captain had thought up of something, something about those waves that could give us the push we need to escape it."

Immersed in the young man's tale, Prof. Michaelis pressed on. "What was your captain able to rustle up from that?"

"That's the funny part. All the crew did was hold onto their lifelines and I was literally squeezing myself to a mast," he laughed. "Hey, it was scary, and it was starting to get dark. We were swallowed in black for a moment then the next thing I know, the last wave was coming and when I opened my eyes, the whole nightmare was over."

"That's amazing. How on Cresentia did all of you manage to get through that calamity?"

Jim added to finish up his story. "I asked the captain about it after the trip, and her answer was simple: a black hole is just a star changing its form. The remaining light energy it has left, it was being given out in the form of bursts at different intervals. That means more light energy for our solar sails. The captain made use of that to power up our ship and get ourselves out of there."

He applauded, slamming his hands on the table in exhilaration. "Now that's an ingenious strategy if I ever saw one! Your captain must've consulted a great amount for her astrophysics and paid very close attention when she was an undergraduate."

"Yeah, she probably did." The teen tried to hold in an impish grin on his face, knowing that the captain in his account was the professor's faculty superior in the academy, and the astrophysicist she consulted for the whole idea was her eventual husband. "But that's just it, sir. In my case, I saw my whole delinquency issue as nothing more than a black hole pushing me around and had my head spinning in places I never thought I'd be in. Then there was a wave."

The idea of his mother waiting for him back at the Benbow Inn entered his mind...

"And there was another."

... followed by the sight of Delbert, Amelia, Morph, his roommates...

Out of habit, his hands fiddled with his tape recorder, remembering the evidence on his rival Ferdinand that ensured his 'smooth sailing' from then on. "The captain never gave up on any us, on saving her ship with all our lives in it. And I thought... maybe I should do the same for myself."

His blue eyes wandered to the floor but was shaken up when he heard the man clapping his hands in applause. "Very well said, lad. From the way you said it, it sounds like you're already made to take the role of a skipper."

"I'm not sure about that," humored Jim. "I know there's still a lot for me to learn in this place before I even get to that."

The professor reached out an arm to the boy to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Then keep at it, James. It'll only get better from here."

With an appreciative nod, Jim smiled at the man and just when there was a pause in their conversation, the two heard a female's voice calling from the other side of the room.

"Prof. Michaelis?"

"Mari—Prof. Everly," he recognized before quickly correcting his rather informal greeting. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Closing the door behind her, the woman turned to face his direction but wasn't expecting that he was answering to a student's consultation at the moment. "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt your meeting. I just needed to consult about an astronomy-related essay that I'll use as reference for my class next week."

Once feeling a bit lighter after his meal, Morph got a grip on himself before scurrying into Jim's pocket to hide. Hearing the female professor's cause for the visit, the teenager let out a breath and stood up from his seat. "Not at all, ma'am. We were just about finished here."

"But if you want to stick around, I'm sure Prof. Everly won't mind," he offered, gesturing to his female co-worker who threw a warm smile to the boy. "Perhaps you might even get to pick up some pointers from her."

"Nah, it's alright. I don't want to overstay, and I'm sure my friends are already wondering what's taking me so long." Walking to the exit and away from the pair, he then added with a smirk, having a mild clue of some sort of history between the two grown-ups. "Besides, I think I should leave you two be. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

* * *

The Verside Cantina's windows lit the street that following Saturday night, right at the first corner of the east spaceport's berth, but Jim simply thought that it was a clever anagram of the birthday celebrant's family name. Stepping in the venue, he and his roommates were received by a guy at the door step, likely Deirdre's peer, whom they presented their invitations to and were granted entrance in the premises.

The four made their way to the middle of the room where Interstellar Academy kids like them were scattered around chatting, drinking and whatnot. The human teenager deduced that they were all probably from Deirdre's league since he knew who they were but he didn't know _anything_ about them either. All the more reason why he was so glad that he was allowed to bring the guys with him.

He then noticed Rainier move along to the dining tables clustered on one side of the room and knew that it was Monina that he was going after, with the girl's large rabbit-like ears distinguishing her from the crowd even if she had her back turned to them.

Jim, Dale and Chris decided to follow him, weaving through Deirdre's guests and passing by a long table with a drinking game being held. The blond-haired Dale winced with the thought that he just couldn't imagine himself being a part of it.

As they found some vacant chairs that they could settle themselves on, they saw the birthday celebrant herself approaching them. "Hey, guys! So glad all of you can make it," she called.

"Yeah. Boyd gave us a toughie on today's drills, but your party might be just what we need after all that," informed Jim with a smirk.

Deirdre agreed, having experienced the same grueling training that morning as he did. "It sure was. Well, go grab a drink and have yourselves a time. Mi casa is your casa," she welcomed before moving on to greet another partygoer.

Just when she had left, they saw Monina with Rainier following behind and being pulled to them by the hand. "Hi, guys! You're all here!"

"We sure are," nodded Chris. "We wouldn't just waste your efforts for nothing, Mon."

"Thanks. So I'm just popping here real quick to check on how you guys are doing though I'll have to go back with Holly and her friends," she said, pointing a thumb to the direction where most of the freshmen and other sophomores like them were gathering. "We're having a blast back there but you guys can always come join us if you like. Wanna come with?"

Dale twirled his fingers in thought. "Well... sure. I mean I might as well go where you're all going."

Chris, meanwhile, turned her offer down and took a small step to the opposite direction. "Sounds cool, but I think I'm gonna get myself a drink at the bar while I'm at it."

"Oh! Non-alcoholic I hope," the blond suggested warily.

Jim shrugged and urged the Cervid to go ahead. "I think I'll help myself to a pint with Chris. I'll catch up with you guys later."

Jim and Chris waved to their other two companions who went back to Monina's group. Chris raised two fingers at the bartender, nodding as he turned to the glass shelf and filled two pints with the house specialty. As the guy did so, the Loppytonian was observing another group of teens having a round with the pub's dartboard.

The two swigged their pints while Chris was fervent to make commentaries on the game, talking about dart aerodynamics and the proper wrist and elbow positions in order to get a good aim. All Jim could do was listen as he took down mental pointers from his friend, most of which came out of Chris' mouth too fast for him to understand and often being distracted by Morph who would mimic some people in the room that he found amusing.

Downing the rest of his drink, the Loppytonian stood up from his seat and proposed that they have a go with the kids playing there, only for Jim to turn down the offer and instead urged the lad to go by himself, that he would rather just watch from the bar as he took his time to finish his pint.

"Suit yourself," shrugged Chris, eager to make his way to the dart game.

With a drink in hand, Jim reclined on his seat as he shifted his view to Rainier and Dale, the former having a ball participating in a game with the teens Monina was watching over. Meanwhile, a few other upperclassmen had noticed their fun and decided to join them.

He raised the glass to his lips and felt a hand tap his back, thankful that the liquid hasn't quite reached his throat because otherwise he would be choking from the surprise. He set the pint down and turned to where the hand was, only to see that it was Deirdre once more, asking if she could borrow him for a moment.

The lad nodded, drank what was left of the beverage and stood up to walk after her, thinking that it might be for the reason why she invited him in the first place. His pet blob followed, hiding in Jim's pocket once more and out of the red-haired girl's sight.

He asked anyway. "Is this about the favor you said you wanted me to do?"

"Yeah, it sure is."

"Well... I've absolutely no idea what it's about and I could appreciate a clue or two."

The girl smirked. "Oh, you'll know what it is soon enough, Jim."

The two of them walked past the crowd and to the kitchen where the hall lead them to a backdoor. Exiting the premises, the lass showed the way to a wooden shed, similar to the ones that carpenters use for their workshops although wider and more spacey. Deirdre entered first and upon lighting up the room, Jim was just astounded when he looked ahead and recognized what was lying on a craftsman's table.

"No way..." he trailed off when he recognizing what it was, approaching the shiny yellow racing device that he often heard about in grand tournaments, and reached out an open hand to touch it like the fanatic he was.

"Yup," nodded Deirdre. "It's the good ol' Solarian Hornet. Neat, huh?"

The lad was stammering in wonder as his hand glided across the board's painted surface. "Yeah, I know that this was Denny Sommers' famous board before he retired it about two years ago. But how...?"

"How did I get my hands on it? Easy. I won my first Junior Galactic Prix last season and Denny thought it'd be best if his little sister could have it for her sixteenth birthday."

Jim's discoveries were just coming at him all at once and he couldn't deny that he was certainly overwhelmed. "Wait, wait. Denny's your brother?"

The red-head corrected. "Half-brother. Same mum, different dads. That's why we don't share the same family name."

"Oh," he uttered, wondering how that came to be but thought that it was probably a private family matter. After all, Jim knew of the discomfort when the topic of his own father was being brought up. He instead decided to move past it and returned to the topic of the yellow solar surfer. "But the Hornet sure looks different from up-close, whoa. You can really see all of the slash and grit done on the paintjob."

"Yeah, but the paintjob's not what I brought you in here for, Jim," she said and debriefed him on the task at hand, pointing a finger to a wire that connected between the surfer's capacitor and cell chamber. "I'm not sure but I think something's up with its power cells, they empty faster than they could even charge up. I've tried everything but I still really don't know what it is and I'm getting desperate."

"Alright, let's have a look," he said with a nod and went to pull out the retractable magnifying glass at the side of the desk.

Troubleshooting where the root of the problem might be, Jim powered the board's engine on and observed its mechanism closely through the palm-sized lens. The indicated power cells seemed fine and were in fact working quite well, although they did lose charge quicker than they're expected to.

He then moved on to inspect the wiring, seeing if there was anything that had a short in them and moved on to the adjacent parts. Soon enough, Jim did notice something in his search. "Hmm, yep. Just as I thought, it's not the power cells you should be worried about."

Deirdre looked up and asked in correction. "It's not?"

"Nope, they're all in good condition, but I think it's the capacitor that you've been having a problem with all this time. It's working just fine, too, though I think one of its main breakers got shot. That's why the cells aren't powering up like the way they should. You're gonna need a circuits expert to replace it with a new one."

But seeing that no engineer would probably take the time to look into their problem, Jim offered an alternative solution. "Or if you want, I could just have the whole capacitor replaced to make things easier for you."

"So it was the capacitor acting up this whole time. My bad," the girl mumbled as a hand scratched the back of her head, feeling sheepish that she had been wrong all the time, before approaching a nearby wooden crate and digging through its contents. "Though I think Denny has a spare around here somewhere."

A hand reached deep to the box's corner where it pulled up the spare capacitor Deirdre was searching, standing up straight and handing the round-shaped device to Jim before dusting off her hands. "Here you go."

Inspecting it from front to back, Jim grinned as he tossed the thingamajig from one hand to the other. "So, I'm gonna install a new capacitor on the Hornet, huh? Man, will Ferd be so green if ever he gets to hear about this."

The lass chuckled. "Not like he'll be any more than he already is now."

"Now that you mention it, has it always been like that between the two of you?"

She shook her head of the thought but smiled like it would amuse her if she told him about it. "Not at all, it was more of a friendly competition when we were younger. Desmond had just started racing in the Junior Galactic Prix and I remember how he hated being called by his real first name by the announcers." Deirdre laughed reminiscently. "He thought it doesn't sound well through the speakers, so he had his racer name changed to just Denny."

Her thoughts then bounced back when she realized that she was already going off-topic. "Anyway, Ferdinand and I looked up to him and aspired to become racers ourselves. All of that changed when Denny moved up from the junior category to the professional world. Ferdinand saw an opening and enlisted in the Junior Prix while I decided to focus more on my studies instead."

"Then what happened?"

"I started racing, that's what. The summer break before I started classes in the academy, I enlisted for the junior competition and guess what, I competed with Ferdinand himself that season. And I won."

"You won?" Jim raised an eyebrow at her. "But he was rubbing it in my face when he said that he won four consecutive seasons in a row."

"He was a title holder until last season. He won alright, as first runner-up that is," she clarified with a mischievous grin before pointing to a shelf on one side of the room where medium-sized gold trophies were placed, and sure enough one of them had Deirdre's name written on its plaque along with her championship title. "Ferdinand was always the champion in the junior category. That was before I unintentionally broke his cycle."

"That explains why you're in his blacklist, too. He just probably feels threatened. I should know, I've been there."

"True, he even told me he loathed me straight to my face. Surprise, surprise, but the feeling's just kinda one-sided on his part."

"Really?"

The girl shrugged. "I don't know. It's not that I hate him, it's just I can't stand putting up with a guy who can't accept the fact that I beat him fair and square."

He chuckled, somehow understanding her sentiment and was able to relate with it. "That's one way to put it."

"And one day, I hear the news that we have a new solar surfer aficionado in campus who happens to know how to piss off ol' Escamillo." Her head tilted to Jim and teased. "If today isn't my lucky day."

"Well, cheers for the birthday girl," he grinned back. "_This_ is why you wanted to invite me so bad, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry if I didn't tell you about it earlier. I needed you to see it for yourself."

"It's alright, and it's no problem at all. I'm actually surprised that I'm the first person you'd think of giving the honors to repair such a nice solar surfer, and you didn't mind that my friends are tagging along with me either."

"But I'll say, Jim. If I didn't know you any better, I could've mistaken you for an expert since you obviously know a lot about these and you sure work smoother with them than most people I've met. I know, I saw your work at ship eng class," she recalled with a praise. "You could even go right up there to Denny's pantheon with that wit of yours, and I'm one biased little sister here."

Curious, a thought went in his head and just couldn't stand asking about it. "Not that I mind but shouldn't Denny have the Hornet already fixed before giving it to you? Just saying."

Deirdre scratched the back of her head and let out another sheepish little laugh. "I sorta... went a little overboard while I was trying it out behind his back."

"That's why you couldn't bring it up to Denny so he can fix it?" he chuckled.

"Yep, and it'd be pretty tragic if I couldn't have the Hornet running by nine tonight 'cause he said he'll be coming around by then with some prix buddies of his. He might even ask me to race with them or something, and he's definitely expecting that I would be taking it for a ride."

"Buddies...? Race? Wait, you mean..."

Understanding his frenzy, the girl gave him a single nod of confirmation that only heightened his fanatic state even more and had him so close to swearing.

"Holy ships..." he gasped, with the thought that real and professional solar surfer racers would soon be in the same room as he was. He wasted no time and grabbed the screwdriver beside him. "I _have to_ get this baby running in no time."

"Right." She turned to head for the door and before she could leave him to his work, Deirdre turned to Jim one last time and threw an austere request in the form of a side-glancing smirk. "So you better not disappoint me, Jim," she winked.

Morph flew right out of his hiding place once more when the girl had already turned her back to them, his eyes widening at the shiny yellow surface of the device right in front of them.

With a smug salute, Jim assured. "I won't. I'll make sure of that."

* * *

"Man, you sure have a tournament going right there," the lad remarked to his roommate. Jim had already finished through the task Deirdre requested earlier and went back to be seated once more at the bar, watching a round of darts happening nearby.

The Loppytonian grinned, waiting with Jim for his next turn. "Well, I started it after all. Let them try beating my high score now."

As the brown-haired lad watched, he soon noticed Rainier, Monina and Dale approaching them from the corner of his eye, with the pangolin-like teen sandwiched between the other two who seemed to be helping him walk with his gawky footing.

"What happened?" getting up from his seat, Jim asked.

With one of Dale's arms draped on his shoulders, Rainier confessed. "I might've convinced him to join the drinking game."

"Good thing Vee took over my post so I can help bring Daley to you guys," sighed Monina, holding onto Dale's other arm as they helped him settle his weight on a seat, and explained further. "He just had a little too much root ale, is all. But he won a round though!"

Chris brought a hand to his face and groaned. "Oh, no..."

"'Oh, no' is right," the absentminded Dale slurred, his feelings conflicted of his drunken stupor but decided to let it be, aware in the slightest that there was nothing he could do about it.

The Loppytonian glanced at the pitiful state of his poor roommate and he cross his arms as he gave Rainier a disapproving stare for the sight, appearing to be judging him silence.

"Hey, I thought it'd be fun!" the Cervid defended from the looks he was getting. "A little too much root ale ain't that bad. Plus since it's barley-free, it's perfectly a-OK for Dale's allergy-condition-thing."

"And thirst-quenching!" he added with an uncharacteristic smack of his lips.

"Yeah, no," consoled Jim with a faint chuckle as his hand ran up and down on Dale's back in comfort. "That's enough root ale for you, buddy."

Cutting in to change the topic, Monina spoke. "So, what've you guys been up to?"

"Chris has the ball rolling with the dartboard over there," he pointed a finger to the game's direction. "As for me, nothing much. Though you guys didn't tell me that Deirdre is Denny Sommers' half-sister this whole time."

"We... didn't know about that, but whoa!" remarked Chris, now having the same reaction as he did earlier. "Care to tell me all about it?"

"Well, Denny handed down one of his best solar surfers for Deirdre's birthday present which she asked me to install a new capacitor on."

"That's so cool!" gushed Chris so hard that his voice was already cracking.

"And the best part: it was the Solarian Hornet."

"No way! You worked on _the_ Hornet?!"

"Hey, Jim," Rainier's voice interjected through the pair's fanatic surfer talk. "No offense but if you're so good with them surfers, why didn't you sign up for the junior grand prix? I mean as an enthusiast, you sure have plenty of talent to go with becoming a pro."

"It's not that easy, Rainier. At the time, my mom wasn't earning enough from our inn to support that kind of hobby, not like I had her support for it anyway," he added the last bit with a chuckle, recalling the patchwork of old solar sails he sewed for his own board since his mother didn't feel confident in spending for a new one. "Pursuing the racing industry all the more never crossed my mind 'cause to be honest, I didn't really take my surfing seriously back then."

'_I didn't take _anything_ seriously,'_ he added in silence and let his eyes set somberly to the ground.

Rainier sighed, now patting the lad on the back in comfort. "I know how you feel, Jim."

Puzzled, Chris had to ask. "Hey, how would you know?"

He felt himself buckle up for his share of tale. "Unlike Jim's experience, my parents are, how do I put it, 'very supportive' of our family's business of ship repairing. So supportive, that all of us _almost_ already know how to fix a dinghy with our eyes closed, save for me and some of my younger siblings."

"How is that a problem exactly?"

"The problem, Chris, is that things are getting absolutely monotonous in our clan, not to mention predictable. I mean do you even know how it feels like to be born into a family with ten siblings who are all good in ship repairs as I am?"

"A family of ten..." they heard Dale mumble in deep thought. "That's like... nine more Rainiers in the universe."

Despite the blond's cluelessness, the Cervid applauded his attempt at deduction. "See? Even Dale gets my point!"

"And your point is?" he questioned for the last time.

"My point is, Jim and I are in the exact same page here. We're not okay with how things were going for us before and thankfully, being sent to the Interstellar Academy has given us a sort of chance to plan out whatever the heck we want with our lives," Rainier concluded. "In my case, I'm going to prove that I can land on a job that doesn't limit me on... well, just fixing ships all the time. I will try to take a stab at something different from what my four older sibs are doing, and probably start a new career path for my little bros and sisses."

"Middle child," grumbled the Loppytonian. "It figures."

"Hey, it's not like any of you guys are middle kids like me!" he defended.

"I'm not," Chris deadpanned. "I'm the youngest of three."

"Oldest brother to my three lovely little sisters," the blond informed with a salute.

Panning his eyes to his other roommate who stayed silent all that time, he asked. "What about you, Jim? Are you a middle child, too? Or are you either like Chris or Dale?"

"Uh, no, none of those," the lad shrugged. "I'm the only kid in the family."

There was suddenly a silent pause between the five of them, that was until Dale just drunkenly cut in. "And we have a winner."

"How about you, Mon?" Jim went on to ask the lone female of their group. "You didn't get to tell us about your... that."

Rainier, however, had already answered for her even before she could. "Nah, she doesn't have to worry about that birth order fad."

"Why not?"

"I'm born into a set of triplets, Jimmy-kins," the lass simply explained to enlighten him of her disposition. "I've already given up figuring that out with my sisters a long time ago, so I don't think there's any sense left in arguing with that."

Dale cheered once more, still completely out of himself. "We have another winner!"

Fed up with his pal's situation, Chris stood up from his seat and started one step away from them. "Alright, that's it. You're getting some warm water, man, and you better chug down all of it," he declared before marching to where the kitchen was.

"But... I don't think I can finish a whole jug," the young pangolin lad complained, who misheard the entire point of what his roommate just told him.

As his other companions tended over the blond, Jim wouldn't deny how spot on what Rainier just mentioned about themselves earlier. Jim admitted that he wasn't at all content with how he was back then, way before a map to a mysterious forsaken planet had appeared right before his eyes. Like what Rainier said, being in the academy granted him an opportunity to prove that he could change from being the nobody he was in Montressor, to show that he was at least worth something compared to the kind of person he was before. He couldn't, however, measure just how much he was making progress at it or if he was even making any progress at all.

His eyes wandered to one of the tavern's open windows, to the dark night sky peeking from it, and remembered that their own Benbow Inn was most likely closing up by now. It was getting late, and the only customers his mother might be expecting to come at a time like this were spacefarers looking for a room to sleep in for the night. The thought of his mother filled his head and he was almost a hundred percent sure that Sarah would never doubt that he was doing way better as the days gone by. She was sure of it considering that she had never seen Jim go to such lengths to change himself and his outlook in life. Just the absence of a law violation being brought at their doorstep was big of an improvement enough for her.

On the note of law violation, Jim also had a word to keep to his fugitive of a friend John Silver, that he would be the solar flare the pirate saw him as and that he would be rattling the stars one day. With how he had kept himself afloat for the past few days, the lad wondered if the old spacer would still look at him with the same twinkle in his cyborg eye.

Minutes passed and Dale had been brought the glass of water Chris promised him, in hopes that it would help him sober up in way. As the lad took careful sips of the hot beverage, the four of them noticed Deirdre walking to their direction, to Jim in particular, with the very Solarian Hornet lugged beneath one arm and spoke.

"Hey, Denny and his chums will be here any minute. Wanna welcome them into the funhouse with me?"

The brown-haired teen obliged with a salute. "Sure, gladly."

"While I'm at it, here." She swung the solar surfer in front of them which caught the lad by surprise when it almost thwacked him on the face. "You might want to show us some of your moves, hotshot."

"Huh?" he muttered, not occurring to him that he was being offered to ride a prized solar surfer in its owner's place. "Wait a minute, wh—?"

The same mischievous grin appeared on her face and she teased. "What, you think I'm not gonna let you give your work a test run?"


	17. Bluffing

**XVI. Bluffing**

* * *

Two feet in front of the large oak door before her, she took one steady breath through her nose and a glance on her gold pocket watch for a check of the time before she could enter the room. Punctual to attend to her engagements she always tried to be regardless of what ever obstruction might get in her way to it.

Amelia stuffed the trinket in her pocket once more and pushed the heavy door into the Grand Navy Council's assembly hall. An emergency meeting had been scheduled to take place that Sunday morning as indicated in one of the paperwork she received about two weeks ago, a letter that specified she be invited for a certain interrogation about a certain recent voyage.

She passed through rows and rows of wooden benches to approach the seat number indicated in her invite and settled herself in before her cat-like eyes could wander around the room full of other Royal Navy personnel called in to attend, likewise settled in their own designated seats and waiting for the councilmembers to arrive and for the conference to begin. In her mind, she was thankful that it was only an emergency meeting since she knew that the High Admiral didn't usually come in for any of those.

He was, however, always present for assemblies which were of utmost priority to the Navy and was the man ever so serious with performing his duties in all of them, given that he has the most significant role in making the council's overall decision. That meant if the circumstances were different, and Amelia's interrogation happened to be in the high official's checklist, there was no doubt that she would've been probed and scolded silly for the reckless driving that reflected from the Legacy's damages. That credit should go to her husband, however, since the inexperienced spacer was the one who had to take over the helm in her place on their way back to the spaceport.

Suddenly, the right-hand door at the very front of the room creaked open and a figure from one of the councilmembers could be seen. The hall conductor then took this as his signal, stood up straight from his tribune and announced their arrival to the crowd.

"Everyone, please stand for the Royal Navy Grand Council," cut his voice through their murmurs.

Amelia, along with everybody else, rose from their seats as three familiar gents and one familiar lady, all garbed in their red high-rank uniforms, appeared before the crowd as they marched in a straight line on the podium, to a matching set of five wooden armchairs intended for them. As expected, the center seat was vacant for the day's assembly, meaning the High Admiral wouldn't be joining them for now.

Once the four had been seated, the conductor ushered everyone else to settle down and announced once more. "This Grand Council meeting, convened on this day by the Royal Navy under the rule of Queen Illysa II, is now officially in session. On behalf of High Admiral Samuel Frost, Admiral Chief Joan Cosmos will be preceding this assembly and hereafter given the jurisdiction to authorize the council's official statement in his place," he commenced, addressing the sole female seated at the right hand side of her superior officer's seat.

Taking over the man's position for the meantime, Admiral Cosmos gave the conductor a small nod of acknowledgement before digging her hands into the dirt. "Let me start by first calling on Lieutenant Winchester for his report regarding the council's resolution from the previous meeting, as well as what progress had been made to it."

"Certainly, Admiral Cosmos," the officer responded before running his eyes through the document he held in his hand. "Concerning the council's attempt for negotiating a ceasefire with the Procyon fleet occupying the border of Southwest Terran territory, Rear Admiral Edgar Jacoby recently filed in a report which states that the alien fleet was willing to comply as long as ceasefire is mutually maintained in both parties.

"According to his report, he and his squadron took advantage of this and proceeded to the Royal Armada's initial objective of proposing a treaty with the Procyon Expanse. He bears good news that the opposite force has decided to appeal to the Procyon Brood Consul the official promotion of this ceasefire into an ultimate peace agreement with the Terran Empire." Relieved and satisfied reactions from the audience filled the hallway, and the lieutenant concluded. "Lastly, initial plans of peace talks between the Procyon Consul and the Terran Parliament will be discussed in the official meeting which is set to take place about a week and three days from now."

Contented, the lead councilwoman with the big woven hair laced her fingers in thought and rested her chin on them with a huff of air. "Very well. Anything else you might want to add that is outside of your report?"

"No, Admiral Cosmos. Nothing else follows," answered Lieutenant Winchester as he flipped his record book open.

"Well then, let us now move on to tackling today's meeting, an emergency at that, starting with a review of its objectives."

"Certainly, ma'am." On the page, the officer read. "Emergency convocation serial number 1081, summoned by Admiral Chief Richard Blake at the request of Rear Admiral Trevor Honest of Port Mont-Foley. The primary objective of this assembly is to conduct an open discussion regarding a particular item, currently under ownership of Captain Terrence Hatford and his First Officer Jonathan Daniel Ambrose, which is speculated to contain some sort of value that may interest Her Majesty's Royal Navy."

Richard Blake, the man seated at the council's leftmost armchair, scanned the room in search of the two item handlers and the requestor's attendance, locating them at the front most row among the right side benches.

Soft murmurs about the topic could be heard throughout the hall as the officer proceeded to the next line of his notes. "The secondary objective of which is an inquiry regarding the damages sustained by Royal Lightship Legacy during a voyage under the management of Captain Amelia Smollett-Doppler."

Admiral Cosmos then raised her hand and gestured for her subordinate to be seated. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Smollett and the Legacy, eh?" spoke a man to the opposite left of her seat, mentioning the feline officer with the name her superiors had been used to referring her with. "I remember when she came back to the spaceport with the ship in tow, downtrodden and a near wreck judging from the missing starboard wing and a broken-off mast that crushed the only laser cannon it was equipped with."

"Not to mention the debris-riddled solar sails," agreed Admiral Blake. "But I probably should not count that in, considering it was the product of a supernova storm as how Smollett stated it in her debriefing."

"But if the debriefing has already been done before, isn't this issue already resolved?" questioned Admiral Cosmos in skepticism. "If I recall, we already had Captain Smollett called in months ago to file and report this particular voyage to us."

The grey-skinned councilman to her right agreed. "Indeed. We have already ruled that she be acquitted of the Legacy's damages due to the nature of the circumstances that befell upon the ship. Not to mention the loss of her first officer Mr. Arrow as a result, although I must say that most of it was because of an unintentional error on the voyage financier's end."

"First Officer Arrow was a great man," reminisced the man at the opposite left. "But he was also among the humblest people I've ever met. He was supposed to be Smollett's superior, you know. A mentor of sorts. He even held a rank in the admiralty yet he chose to be by her side, working under her governance as a first officer since he claimed to have seen 'great potential' in her like how he said it."

The grey admiral defended. "Still, the man's sacrifice was not in vain for being of honorable service to her. No one should be considered at fault in this in any way."

"I would say so, too, Admiral Bluedwarf." She tilted her head to throw a glance to the leftmost councilmember. "Admiral Blake, you're the one who summoned for this meeting and I'm certain Admiral Honest has already directed you with what this assembly should be all about. Am I right?"

"Yes, Admiral Cosmos. He has, as you said, already directed me with the scope of this meeting."

"Then why the need to once again bring up Captain Smollett's affairs, and into this convocation nonetheless?"

"Because of her expertise."

"Her expertise?"

"Yes, from the latest voyage of the Legacy to be precise," the red-haired admiral answered. "From what Admiral Honest informed me on what we are about to be debriefed with, her experience from that occasion would prove to be very useful if further investigations will be conducted."

She raised an eyebrow at him in bewilderment. "An investigation? Aren't you perhaps getting a bit ahead of yourself?"

"Maybe, but once you hear what he and his associates have to reveal, I'm certain it will have everyone in this very room losing their minds."

The councilwoman let out a frustrated sigh, not exactly a huge fan of strong talk and for being kept in the dark. "Fine, very well. Just so I can have context on what you're referring to, let us now begin with the conference. The floor is all yours, Admiral Blake."

"Thank you, Admiral Cosmos," he replied with a nod. "Admiral Honest, please do the honors."

"As you wish, sir," promptly saluted the inferior officer as he placed on the exhibit long table what seemed to be a small box underneath a sheet of white cloth which covered its entirety. "I have here in my possession the subject of this conference, its discovery made by Captain Hatford and his first officer on planet Galatea with coordinates one-three-four-four."

His hand pulled on the sheet and tugging it away revealed a wooden chest held together by black metal lining. He opened the latch, swinging the chest's lid back, and took out what seemed to be a spherical gold artifact, holding it out in the air for the council's audience to see. Fascinated looks appeared on their faces and immediately, so many questions were already bubbling in their heads.

All but one was as engrossed as they were when her eyes landed on the object in their midst. It was none other than Amelia who easily recognized what in actuality it was, a holographic map to Flint's trove or what was known to be the loot of a thousand worlds, and had to contain herself from any stand-out reactions that could give rise to everyone's suspicions. She wouldn't dare draw that kind of attention to herself, but the uninhibited paling of her skin made her look like she had just saw a ghost, and indeed it was the ghost of a voyage from not too long ago. She was thankful enough that the audience had been utterly distracted by the mysterious sphere, barely taking their eyes off it to even notice her.

Admiral Honest then placed the object back in its compartment. "The item in question is spherical in shape, covered in patterns consisting of lines and circlets. It's already been cleaned up but before, it had traces of dirt and ash which reached far into a few of its dents. I have already consulted with my colleagues in the research area to further inspect the item, and I would like to call on them to share their findings with the rest of this meeting's participants."

"Dr. Mitchell Langley, licensed astrochemist and mineralogist. And this is my trusted associate, assistant researcher Prof. Anna Bertram," introduced the two delegates as they went right into their report. "In the research process our team conducted, we had the item undergo a series of tests in order to accurately determine its physical make-up."

His companion flipped open the folder she held in her arm and informed them. "It is a metallic sphere with a diameter of about twelve centimeters and a net weight of approximately three-hundred and fifty grams with a surprisingly loose density, perhaps due to the movable nature of its surface plates. The plates got their hue from the bronzium alloy material the sphere is made up of which also explains for its impeccable sheen, save for some dents which had traces of dirt that were scraped off them prior to this meeting."

The older scientist continued from where she left off. "Then that brings the question of how this item could have ended up that way. I've consulted with the archaeology department to get some insight on the item through their archives, but we are all astonished to find out that there has never been a record of its existence before, making it the first of its kind to be discovered in this day and age."

"We have top cryptographers flying in to the research facility from all over the nation, upon noting that the sphere's movable plates could be turned and pieced together like puzzle pieces," the assistant researcher included. "They collaborated with our junior facility to decipher the item, but none of our efforts have succeeded so far."

"So needless to say, the item is still questionable in terms of what its true purpose could be," hypothesized Admiral Honest, summarizing what his colleague stated from his team's research. "However, I would like Captain Terrence Hatford to share with us the rest of the report which may help shed some light into this matter."

"Thank you, Admiral, sir," he replied as he stood up from his seat and his hand smoothed back a portion of his golden brown hair. "The reason why I decided to present the item to the council is a rather interesting tale. I discovered it in the planet Galatea when I met with an informant of mine, a fisherman named Ruel Wiggins from the Isles of Tulle, and he brought the item to my attention. He told me something about it that sounded very important."

Mixed reactions filled the assembly hall, expressions of doubt behind Hatford's informant diffusing with expressions of intrigue behind the sphere's existence. "Your informant is a fisherman from the outskirts of Terran territory?" asked someone from the benches in skepticism.

Just when Hatford was about to answer them, Admiral Honest had hushed the audience. "I'm sorry, but please hold all questions until the end." He then turned to the young interrupted officer. "Captain, please continue."

"Thank you, sir. At first, he asked me about my knowledge of the explosion that took place adjacent to Spaceport Cresentia..."

The inquirer's eyes widened in surprise, about how a fisherman native to some far-flung location could've been aware of the event. As far as the whole Royal Navy knew, the detonation only happened within Terran territory, around the spaceport to be exact, hence it was uncanny that word of it would reach the outskirts of the empire. Unless of course ruling the possibility that the talebearer was around the area when it happened, slipping into Terran territory under the Navy's nose.

That would prove to be quite a problem, knowing that there had been a breach of security regardless of how insignificant a threat it might pose to the empire's inhabitants.

"... and then he told me that an explosion likewise occurred at the edge of the galaxy. You might think that it had nothing to do with the one that we witnessed, but there is evidence that proved otherwise."

Assisting him with his testimony, his superior officer spoke. "I had my research colleagues do an analysis on the debris spotted coming toward the spaceport, as well as samples that Captain Hatford collected from the outer explosion's witnesses, the residents of the Isles."

"Three separate samples were collected and analyzed," the young research assistant affirmed. "One contains the spaceport debris, the other is the debris from the Isles of Tulle, and last is the ash specimen scraped off of the item. Substance analysis indicate fire damage on all three cases, judging from the results that showed their physical and overall chemical composition, or decomposition rather."

Dr. Langley further informed from what they discovered in their study. "And what is surprising from all this is we found out that the nature of the very fire damages these three specimen originated from _is the exact same explosion_."

A doubtful officer spoke lowly from his seat. "It might've been a coincidence."

"I'm afraid that is not the case, my good sir," the doctor grinned at him like a proud scientist expositing his work. "Apparently, all three samples are found to similarly contain a pyrolytic mixture of carbon material and another chemical component, which are traces of gold alloy primarily used in making gold coins and drabloons."

The crowd was now more astonished than ever, and their whispers were getting louder by the minute with every new information presented to them.

"It seems we're now seeing from an angle that the samples came from a detonation involving a whole lot of gold, unless of course there's this enterprise that has been blowing them up behind our backs this whole time," supposed Admiral Honest in false intimidation, mostly just to shaken up the audience. "But I think it is now logical to take into mind that the blast near Cresentia and the one around the outskirts are one and the same."

For months, the Royal Navy had been trying to solve what was claimed to be the greatest mystery to ever befall the Terran Empire: the explosion that disappeared as soon as its aftershocks hit Spaceport Cresentia. Various rumors about it had spread far and wide, even so far as to suspect that it was some sort of a terrorist attack. Her Majesty's Armada had been winded for the longest time investigating the source and trying to piece it all together with what they could get their hands on. Evidence was scarce from an unknown source though, mobilizing them into a continuous search mission that seemed like a never-ending hole.

What was presented to them now was probable evidence that could put an end to their search, their worries and the explosion theories that bothered them at night. However, just when they thought that the work was done, the council now considered themselves utterly unprepared, that the domain of the mission was a lot wider than they thought and the item's apparent discovery has brought them new questions to mull on.

"Thank you," nodded Hatford to the researchers and to the admiral for their supportive notes. "Now, about the gold Dr. Langley told us about. Additionally, I was told by my informant about his fellow fishermen finding treasure of different sorts getting ensnared in their nets. Word is that the detonation caused some person's loot to rain on immediate planets, along with the item in our possession."

Hearing everything the captain and his delegates had said, Amelia's eyes went wide at how close they were to the big picture. Normally before partaking on a voyage, she would file in the full disclosure of her commission and the whole Royal Navy would already know what she's been up to but for the particular trip to Flint's trove, she chose not to.

She knew that letting slip about a commission to a hundred year-old treasure trove (which was the stuff of hundreds of storybooks) would complicate things and would draw a certain kind of attention to herself, and _that_ kind of attention was the least she needed. So she exercised her code of confidentiality, only reported to her superiors that it was a minimal transport mission, mum's the word about the map and the planet it guided them to from then on, and the rest was history. Which was why she was astonished that the young man already knew that much even if it still wasn't official to his superiors, knowing that it all traced to the now-detonated Treasure Planet but hopefully not to her partial involvement in it.

Before he ended his report, the young captain took a deep breath and a quick glance to the small gold sphere. "That is all the information I currently have, from my informant and the witnesses I've surveyed, but I could stop here and move on to answering what questions you may have. I'm sure a lot more will be uncovered that way."

One by one, hands were raising in their midst and the captain was able to call on the first one that caught his eye. "These facts you've mentioned, do these imply that the sphere had something to do with some hidden treasure we are not aware of?" the officer asked him.

Hatford's face lit up in response. "It could be. We are, in fact, considering that an option at the moment."

Another question was raised. "Based from what survived the explosion's magnitude, this hidden treasure no doubt has an estimate of a rather large amount. If that's the case, is it possible that a trail of it still exists around the area of explosion?"

"It's possible, sir. If there were some that reached planets light-years away from it, I'm almost a hundred percent sure that remains can still be found within the perimeter."

Next was a statement, rather than a question, that had been voiced out. "Since we are talking about a blast of considerable magnitude, I have a strong hunch this could be a pirate's handiwork."

"You think a pirate is behind the attack?" interjected a woman from the crowd.

"Yes, but it also might not have been an attack. No casualties were reported when it occurred and furthermore, no one could have that much loot unless they were gathered through less than disreputable means."

A man from the opposite bench protested. "That's just outrageous. I mean what pirate would be crazy enough to rig up something, blow up their own gold and let it go to waste?"

Upon hearing the statement, a half-smirk crept upon Amelia's face. After all, if the notorious Captain Nathaniel Flint could be described with a word, he was definitely nothing but crazy. Even children's storybooks already knew that much about him.

"We are given protocol to not entertain rumors of any form _but_ I will keep that in mind, Commander Bromley. That is quite an interesting theory," assured Admiral Honest to the man and upon noticing a person's persistent hand raising, he called on the hand's owner whom he recognized as the stern West spacecoast captain, Jarvis Wenceslas.

"I will resume with my companion's statement. Your informant, he's a fisherman, correct?" spoke he, seated beside the one who asked the same question earlier. "Then are you saying that the whole reason why this whole assembly is happening is because you believed in a fisherman's story of raining treasure?"

Alarmed by this accusation, Admiral Cosmos interjected. "Captain Wenceslas, are you perhaps doubting the very subject of this meeting?"

Regardless of his superior's question, the man was still berating the young officer. "I'm merely pointing out the whimsicality my ears have picked up from the entire tale. For a Royal Navy captain, I wasn't expecting that Hatford would have the nerve to consult an informant of questionable origin. I presumed he would've been more creative than that," he chastened with a click of his tongue.

"He does have a point," commented the precautious Admiral Bluedwarf. "The Isles of Tulle _is_ located at the outskirts of the Terran Empire, the seedy territory to be precise. We can't exactly assess how credible the informant's account is, knowing that the population in that area are known to be good with fabrications. In plain man's terms, swindlers."

Hatford was quick to speak up on this. "I know, I know that it all sounds fictitious but believe me. I've known my informant for a long time and there was never a single time that he swindled nor had lied to me. At least not with this one."

The third highest officer, Admiral Knapp, decided to cut in and quizzed the lad about this. "And how can you be so confident that what he gave you is authentic information?"

The captain's fingers touched his chin to think of an answer but before anything could come up in his mind, his first officer had already answered for him. "Because the admiral's colleagues won't have the need to look into the sphere if it weren't. If the data that the research team collected is enough to have archaeologists and cryptographers sailing across the Etherium to study it, then how is it not enough to convince our own faction?" was his sharp reply.

Admiral Knapp hummed as he thought, and just found himself nodding his head in approval of First Officer Ambrose's clever defense. _'That makes sense.'_

Admiral Bluedwarf still had questions about the item's authenticity. "Well, yes but from an explosion of that magnitude? With its size, it would've been impossible for the sphere or any golden treasure to escape it in one piece."

The research assistant was able to disprove that. "Not all is impossible, sir. You see, when there is enough mass around an explosive surface, chances are that the top-most pile of mass will only be pushed away by the heat and pressure buildup occurring at the very bottom of the pile which is directly exposed to the explosion's core. That was most likely what happened to the treasure or the golden sphere, and how these were able to survive the line of fire."

"Thank you for the supplemental information, Prof. Bertram," acknowledged Ambrose with an appreciative smile and a nod of his head.

Without a word, the young researcher could only nod back with the strange urge to raise the folder halfway up to her cheek. She found herself speechless and blushing furiously at the spacer, his pretty face sending out his utmost thanks got the lass a tad bit distracted.

"In that case, are we expecting treasure to rain on us as well once we've found out where the sphere's source is?" Captain Wenceslas, still visibly disbelieving, remarked in absolute sarcasm. "Or could it be another explosion waiting upon our arrival? I would wish that Arcturian solar crystals will be flourishing that time around."

Mildly amused by the man's statement, Hatford leaned to his first mate and whispered low to his ear. "Well, and here I thought I was the creative one."

"Clearly," he stifled a chuckle in response.

"Alright, I think that's enough lollygagging for now," Admiral Blake finally spoke up. "I understand that we all still have doubts, a mountain of questions and a lot of information still needs to be uncovered. Not to mention that the rest of this case's foundation remains obscure. Even with the emergence of the item, we still barely have any leads to the source we've been investigating for months."

After a brief pause, he heaved a short sigh. "But that is what search expeditions are for. At the moment, the information lent to us by Captain Hatford, Admiral Honest and the rest of the research team will suffice for a voyage to hopefully discover the source and put an end to our long-enduring search."

"But Admiral Blake, considering that this is an explosion we are investigating, won't it be putting lives at risk in this pursuit?" his co-department asked.

To answer Admiral Cosmos' inquiry, he put on a confident grin on his face and pointed to a certain Felinid. "That's where Captain Smollett comes in."

"I beg your pardon," Amelia stuttered, she and the Admiral Chief caught off guard by his sudden recommendation. "Me? I believe I was merely summoned here for an interrogation about the Legacy."

"Yes, you were. Now, let us get straight to the point: right before you docked into spaceport for your commission, you've arrived albeit a couple of hours late after a successful dealing with a portion of the Procyon armada you were assigned to. Am I correct?" he probed.

"... Yes, sir," she answered with hesitation, careful with her superior officer who remembered every single detail from her report about that particular occasion.

"And according to your report from your last voyage, you wrote that you and a handful of your crew were able to handle the event of a supernova and a mutiny that concurrently occurred on your ship during that voyage?"

"I wouldn't exactly say 'concurrent' but I suppose when a crew of questionable standards are chartered aboard the ship, there is already the sense of dread that a mutiny might or might not arise on a later time."

"Well, that is the very reason why I considered inviting you for this assembly, Smollett. Your experiences regarding shortcomings like these could prove to be very useful for a voyage of this nature," the admiral finally admitted. "After all, I'm aware that you won't have the interest to come in if the council didn't invite you personally."

It was all becoming apparent to her now. "I see, you half-lied about the interrogation on the Legacy to make sure that I'll arrive. The true purpose of my attendance is to be debriefed about an expedition for the artifact's origin, because you're voting that I'll be the one to instigate it."

"Now you're catching on" was the satisfied response from the lion-like councilman.

"But I should say, didn't the detonation _conveniently_ occurred in the same timespan as this mutiny of yours, Captain Smollett?" out of nowhere, Admiral Knapp pulled out the question for the captain.

"Yes, it did. Why do you ask?" Amelia had to question while trying to keep a straight face.

"And the Legacy was able to sustain damages from what seemed to be _a sizeable line of fire_. Did it not?"

"It did, sir."

"Although I should say that this is very much a coincidence, but could this line of fire be perhaps the very explosion that occurred adjacent to Spaceport Cresentia?"

Not favoring the sound of where the interrogation was heading, Admiral Blake immediately interjected. "Forgive me for being straightforward with my words, but are you suspecting that the mutiny had something to do with it?"

Admiral Knapp crossed his arms and replied with a smug grin. "Sharp as ever, Admiral Blake. But that is just at the surface of why I'm doubting her involvement in this."

The grey-skinned admiral protested in defense. "That is but a far-fetched assumption, Admiral Knapp. It is near impossible to say that a mere solar galleon like the Legacy could be the catalyst of a detonation, the magnitude of which reached as far as a large meteor!"

"You can only be so sure, Admiral Bluedwarf. While it is safe to say that no solar galleon could be the courier of anything that blew up what seemed to be an entire planet, let alone survive from it, we could still see from a different angle that the explosion must've come from _an external source_."

He took into account his colleague's account although he still didn't see the rationality of his claims. "But then again, who could've possibly engineered a large-scale explosion such as that? The man either has to be a madman or a machine to have built something of that caliber."

'_If only Admiral Bluedwarf knew,'_ pondered Amelia once again of how spot-on the description was, when in fact it was a _madman_ who engineered the said explosion with some help from a certain _machine_ of an underling, and said machine was now apparently working as the Legacy's pilot under her supervision.

The Leonid superior officer then cut through the two's debate. "We can suspect Smollett all we want but if by all means she was ever involved in it, I will say that this only makes it more of a reason for us to recruit her. Her knowledge will be most vital to this quest."

"You can't be serious, Admiral Blake," the still doubtful admiral exclaimed with a shake of his head. "As far as we know, we have other Navy personnel who are just as competent but even ten times as trustworthy as your candidate. The whole situation _is_ a tremendous risk for the Royal Navy, and I can't just put my confidence on someone who has an apparent problem with the Navy's... politics."

"Politics has nothing to do with this, Knapp."

"_Yes, it does_. It was why she abandoned her administrative post and ended up sidelining with the reserves in the first place," cynically, he informed which only peeved Amelia and had her throwing a glare to the man as he quoted further. "'Big on protocol' doesn't proportionately sit well for someone who is 'big on results', it seems."

"Then what do you suggest, Admiral Knapp?" queued Admiral Cosmos.

"I simply suggest that another person be assigned the job, more legally someone from administration. My concern is that I have every right to doubt her, since this trust issue of hers directly impacts her credibility as an asset to the Royal Navy."

"Admiral Knapp," finally responded Amelia to correct him. "It is with a clean conscience I say that my frustrations with this division's bureaucracy, I assure you, has never at all reflected in my credibility as a proper captain."

"And this statement of yours, is it out of loyalty to your position in the Royal Navy?"

"_My loyalty_..." she said with whole austerity. "Is to the Terran Empire, as how all Royal Navy constituents should dutifully be."

Moved by her solemn words, Admiral Cosmos had to resist clapping her hands in applause but instead decided to compliment the young captain's astuteness. "Very well said, Smollett. Now, if we will give you the offer of instigating this expedition, will you be very much inclined to accept the task?"

Amelia's shoulders tensed up at the thought of finishing the business she started a year ago, and although she was pleased with everything her superior officer said to her, she chose to decline. "It is a colossal responsibility, ma'am. I would take on the task myself but as I find myself _ridiculously_ agreeing with Admiral Knapp's statement, I don't think I'm in quite the right position to take it. If I accept it, it would be an infringement of protocol and the Navy _does_ fuzz a lot on protocol," explained Amelia, adding the last bit in contempt with the knowledge that it would be politically incorrect for a captain (correction: an independently-operating reserves captain) to take on a job rightfully meant for someone in administration.

"Is this coming off as a bluff, maybe to conceal what you might know about the detonation?" her other superior officer said who was still probing on her like a wasp.

The man's accusations were beginning to grind her gears and found herself evading the job offer even more. "With all due respect, Admiral Knapp, sir. You are free to speculate whatever you want, but please, understand that I'm putting my good name on the line the moment that I'm burdened with this quest and I will most certainly not take that risk."

Admiral Honest, with a self-assured grin, spoke up about this. "You won't have to worry about that. I already considered signing you up for the job under my name. With that, you are very much allowed to carry out however you want but I will be taking full responsibility for your actions."

The captain gaped upon the instantaneous message and couldn't keep in her stammering. "... You can't be serious."

Admiral Cosmos appended. "What if... we have a full discussion about your promotion later on? Would that change your mind?"

There was a stunned pause in the hall and even the Felinid was taken aback by what she just heard. "I'm sorry, but what do you mean?"

"Given that you have accomplished the task satisfactorily, I shall have no problem with filing a well-deserved promotion for you. And you will find yourself able to move up to an admiralty rank in the administration."

As expected, Admiral Knapp was quick to complain. "Admiral Cosmos, is this wise?"

"Why not? Captain Smollett has a clean record, her contributions from even before she stepped down to the reserve corps remain exemplary especially with keeping a portion of the Procyon Armada outside of local territory, and she _is_ a bearer of the Green Badge of Honor, a much respected title," she enumerated with high regards to the female officer. "I assure you that her promotion is proffered with good intentions."

"I can also see this as an opportunity to show her that the administration can openly lend her its trust, since Captain Smollett has apparent deeply-rooted doubts with it," added Admiral Bluedwarf.

The Leonid raised a finger to his chin. "A treaty, I see. That does make sense since this expedition should indeed be built on a strong bond of trust."

"I'm glad that you understand my cause," thanked the Admiral Chief for her colleagues' valuable insight.

Seeing his co-councilmembers making a common vote on the matter, all Knapp could do was cross his arms in disapproval and grunt in apparent defeat. "Do what you please but I will still remain doubtful."

"We understand, Admiral Knapp. The council respects your personal decision," comforted Cosmos and she turned once more to Amelia. "Do we now have an agreement, Captain Smollett?"

With a deep breath and a stern face straight to them, the captain replied with a heavy heart, seeing that there weren't any more viable excuses she could concoct that would help her elude the assignment. "Since you arranged it that way, I suppose I am now obliged to accept the assignment."

"Very good. Now, let us commence with your mission orientation. But hang on, how can Captain Smollett be guided if we still don't have enough grounds for definite mission objectives?" she asked her Leonid co-worker.

"Good point. While we are given some insight by the sphere's existence, we still don't have much information to properly map out how we should investigate or where we should even begin with it." His eyes panned to Amelia then asked. "Since you will be the one leading this expedition, can we also rely on your extra set of hands to assist with gathering what could help strengthen the basis of this investigation?"

"I'll see to it that I assist in any way I can, sir," she responded with a firm tone much to her superior officer's relief. It was still a sight, however, that didn't sit well with Admiral Knapp who was still suspiciously judging her in silence.

"Very good. In that case, your voyage's schedule will be tentative until further notice, although I'm sure Admiral Bluedwarf and the rest of the Board of Regents will probably vote that it take place at the end of the academic year."

The mentioned councilman nodded his head to attest the man's opinion. "Indeed, Admiral Blake. Most likely, we will approve your voyage once we are assured that you have already settled all your affairs in the Interstellar Academy. While you are at it, do take the time to research on the artifact at hand," he advised Amelia with the mysterious golden sphere in mind.

"I understand, sir."

Admiral Blake continued. "As for your ship and crew, we can discuss that at a later time but I do need to bring up the new solar galleon I'm informed of that will be replacing the Legacy under your management. Is that right?"

She wouldn't deny that she was curious with his question and what he was trying to imply with it. "Yes, sir. My husband pioneered in engineering it, although I'm not quite allowed to carry out missions with the ship at the moment since it is still a prototype."

"Yes, the RLS Centurion in fact. A revolutionized model that The Royal Lightship Company collaborated with him to design. It is said to be faster than the current standard lightship and was designed to be more solar energy-efficient."

His grey-skinned co-department had cut in. "Is this to say that Amelia should deploy the Centurion for her mission?"

"Absolutely not," quickly exclaimed Admiral Blake. "While the idea that an innovated lightship will help make the voyage an efficient one, there is the risk that blackguards will take an interest in it and swipe the galleon from under our noses like they did to the many others before it. That would be a colossal problem because the Centurion is a _very_ powerful ship, and I would hate to live the day when it falls into wrong hands."

"Also, since the Centurion has a particularly different architecture than its predecessors, it will be quite a challenge to balance between familiarizing with the vessel's mechanism while working on a high-priority expedition," added Amelia. "The expedition is already a handful as it is, what more with the inexperience of operating on an alien vessel."

An officer from one of the benches then spoke about this. "Then this expedition should be a good chance to see just how well we could work with this new model and how far we could go with it!"

"Yes, and Captain Smollett can give us input of her experiences with it," another one agreed with him. "Her notes will be very useful for future improvements, especially the moment this lightship model is staged for mass production."

"I don't think you understand," the Leonid disapproved once more. "The expedition is already a huge risk for the empire, and throwing in the utilization of a powerful vessel takes that to a ten. We can't just put two risks into a single mission; that will be overkill to us all!"

"Then if we can't deploy the Centurion now, Admiral Blake, then when?" quizzed the Admiral Chief as she enlightened him of the situation. "You have a skilled captain at your employ for a high-priority investigation and she even has a powerful ship underway, specifically _made_ _for_ commissions like this. A rare opportunity has showed itself to you and yet you refuse it?"

"I _deliberate_ on it, Admiral Cosmos," he corrected. "I am prepared to give one hundred percent for this investigation but that does not mean I'm careless enough to put Smollett or the name of the Royal Navy in jeopardy."

"And you are careless enough to doubt the situation that is at hand," chastened Cosmos. "This is your one hundred percent, Admiral Blake, and I advise that you don't let it go to waste."

For a long second while once again weighing the circumstances of his actions, the red-haired officer hummed. "I will still have my doubts if you'd let me, but I suppose I could give Captain Smollett the prerogative to deploy the Centurion if she wants to. However, I do highly encourage that she have the Legacy underway for the voyage just to be on the safe side."

A short nod from Admiral Cosmos put an end to their little debate, the officer mildly satisfied with the decision her equally-ranked councilmember has come up with.

Leaving the situation be, Amelia just sighed in resignation. "Very well, but whether it is the Centurion or the Legacy that I'll be boarding for the voyage, I shall make no such promises in advance that I will return to spaceport with either ship back in one piece."

"Oh, blast the ship for all I care!" shrugged the red-haired officer. "As long as you are able to complete the task without fail. Is that understood?"

In compliance, the Felinid captain hardened her posture and saluted. "As you wish, Admiral Blake."

* * *

Meanwhile in the Interstellar Academy at that very same time, resident students were scheduled to pick up their freshly-cleaned clothes for that day which were the once dirty laundry they had deposited the day before. The A.M. queue was formed at the academy's laundry service hall, and Jim and his friends were nearing their turn at the 'Claim' counter, doing a status report of their little bingo game to pass the time while they wait.

"Alrighty, initiating campus bingo update," announced Rainier to his three roommates, doing a bunch of elaborate hand poses before pulling out a folded up game sheet from his pocket. "So, who's got the most so far?"

Chris raised an index finger at him, asking another question instead of giving an answer. "Wait a minute, does being accidentally locked inside Prof. Pulver's supply shed count as 'getting stuck inside a locker'?"

"Yeah, it kinda does," said Jim while Morph helped counting up the 'X'-d out boxes on his own sheet. "The supply shed is just one big storage locker to him anyway."

The black-haired teen was about to nod his head but a swirl of laughs escaped his mouth instead when he remembered what happened that day. "Oh, man. That was a good one, Chris. The Etherium winds sure know how to pull a good prank on you."

"Anyway," dismissed the self-conscious Loppytonian with a clearing of his throat. "Counting that in makes it ten out of twenty-five tasks for me."

"Oh, you're the same as me," cheered the blond Dale as he waved his own sheet in front of him after counting his own. "I think we're doing pretty well so far, and the midterms won't even be around for another two months. That means there's still plenty of chances to get all of them done before the school year ends."

"Yeah, which is why I'm not surprised that no one has aced a test yet," brought up Rainier at the mention of the midterms. "We're really gonna be tested for that task by the time the tests start pouring in."

A thought entered Jim's head and just when he was about to bring it up his friends, they heard a woman calling out from the counter with a name card in hand. "Mr. Levey?"

"Ah," said Chris with a small rub of his hands. "That's my cue."

While the Loppytonian attended to gathering his laundry load and signing his name on the logbook, Jim then took the chance to cut in and ask his earlier question. "Wait, doesn't the algebra proficiency test count?"

"It does. A lot of our classmates did pretty well in it but none of us _actually _aced it, at least that's what Doc Stringly told us about the test results," he recalled in low spirits, but moved past it quick with a compliment to his roommate. "But you sure got some good marks in it, my man. I didn't know you're quite a math wiz."

"Mr. Wess?" called the woman again and it was now their blond companion's turn for the errand.

"I'm not," denied the human teen. "A girl who sat beside me back then just happened to have volunteered as my partner for the test. But yeah, she's really good at it."

"Lucky! So what's her name, huh? You should ask her out on a date or something to at least thank her for the charity work," the antlered teen teased, like there was never a day that passed by without him shaking up his pals a bit.

"Then that way, Jim can cross out 'asking somebody out on a date' off his bingo sheet," muffled the pangolin-like blond, his arms cuddling the laundry basket to his chest and was raised high enough to get in the way of his face.

"Mr. Trelawney?"

Unamused, the mentioned lad blew on a tuft of his hair and grumbled to himself before moving to the receiving desk. "Seriously, when is everyone gonna get my name right?"

Jim rolled his eyes at his roommates, already making a habit out of it every time anyone attempted to pair him with anyone and funny enough, he had been getting a lot of the same remarks ever since he already had things ironed-out with his rival Ferdinand. "Oh, come on, a date is the last thing I have in my mind right now but now that I think about it, I haven't really given her a proper 'thank you' ever since she helped me out."

Rainier had already set a pen on the record book but felt his hands shaking from what he heard his friend just said. "You... about two months have passed since the math pre-test and you still haven't thanked her?!" Rainier guffawed to the little pink shape shifter's surprise, his voice loud enough to be heard in the whole receiving area. "Oh, Jim. I never thought I'd say this but dude, you're a terrible, _terrible_ person!"

"Hey, she was being very difficult back then, alright?!" the lad went to justify himself as he felt his face flush out of embarrassment. Trying to get his composure back, he let out a long huff of breath. "But you're right, now I feel kinda terrible for not giving her the credit while I had the chance. I guess I'll just have to properly thank her the next time we meet, let's hope I won't forget."

"Mr. Hawkins?" finally, the laundry woman called out and the teen moved next to his Cervid roommate who was already lugging his own laundry pile out of the way.

Coming up with a way to help him out, Dale proposed a solution. "As funny as it may sound but maybe you can thank her through a poem, Jim. Saves you the trouble of doing the middlemost task of having to write a love poem for someone."

Rainier lifted a hand free from his laundry basket and dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "Nah, Jim wouldn't consider doing that for her. He's probably reserving the task for someone else."

"Who?"

"Why, Kate the Blake, that's who!"

No longer putting up with the same kind of commentary constantly thrown at him, Jim flashed the Cervid his signature don't-mess-with-me glare. "Okay, that's enough playing matchmaker for today, Rainier."

Agreeing with his owner's reaction, Morph transformed into a smaller version of Jim's face and threw the same scowl to the black-haired lad.

"Sorry, sorry. Stopping now," he stammered when he got the two's point although a small grin was still on his face. "Well then, I got an eleven. So who checked out the most tasks for this week?"

Chris spoke on behalf of his roommate who was just about done with the laundry service formalities. "I think Jim did. He told me he already has twelve tasks accomplished so far."

"Really?" asked Dale, with the brown-haired teen setting down his clothes basket and letting the blond take a peek into his sheet. Indeed, his roommate was right to his surprise. "Whoa, you're practically at the halfway mark already, Jim."

"Thanks," he said while he folded away the piece of paper then went back to carrying his laundry pile with a confident grin. "At this rate, I'll be having the prize right after midterms. A free lunch from you guys after a whole tiresome week of exams is a real celebratory mood."

"Oh, stop bluffing, Jim," chuckled Chris in a lighthearted tone. "You're just trying to get us all fired up so you'll have some competition, not like you consider us to be anyway."

"A-ha! You're catching on very quick, man," he complimented his roommate's wit. "But dont worry. I consider you guys a healthy competition to be honest, and not like the way Ferdinand overdoes it."

"Well, no one wants to face-off with an obnoxious bloke like him," spoke Rainier between short thoughtful nods of his head then remembered. "But Kate the Blake is kinda coming off as your academic rival now. Think you'll do okay as her competition, too?"

Jim simply answered with a shrug, unsure of what to say since he never considered the conversation he had with the Leonid as her offer of competition to him, not really wanting to get on the girl's bad side if that was the case. "I guess we'll just see when we get there."

"So," began Chris as the other three followed him starting to walk out of the room. "After we've unloaded these back in our room, what are we having for lunch today?"

"Since we've been brimming with health from eating nothing but cafeteria food for a long while, how about we have a one-time pig-out in town?" Rainier proposed which his roommates gave enthusiastic responses to. Even the little pink blob was dancing around in the air in excitement.

"Then I know just the place," suggested the Loppytonian. "I'm a loyal Grease Wagon customer, and the spicy wings they have there are to die for."

Jim looked up to his thoughts, the name of the eatery sounding a bit unfamiliar to him. "I haven't been there before, so I'm not sure which stuff are the ones I should have."

"How about let's just have whatever Chris is having?" Rainier thought, knowing that his roommate was quite a connoisseur when it came to junk food. "Just to be sure, but I know whatever he's having, it's gonna be great."

Hearing the suggestion, Chris began to think aloud. "Well, that's four bonzabeast cheeseburgers, four potato fries, a side of jalapenos, and a pitcher of purp juice..."

Dale smiled at inviting the sound of his feast. "Yeah, that works for me!"

"That sounds good though," agreed Jim and felt his own stomach rumble in thought.

"Hey, Dale," the antlered lad quickly intervened with a reminder. "Those are cheeseburgers we're talking about. Whatever happened to 'lactose intolerance'?"

"... Life is too short for that, Rainier" was what Dale had to say in retaliation as he threw a smug grin to his pal's face.

"If you insist, dude," laughed Chris at the lad's attempt at taunting and with a smirk, he went on to humor his roommates with a question. "So, what are you guys having?"


End file.
